A God's Cruel Fantasy
by arrieberries
Summary: Alfred's perfect world changes when he's thrust into a survival game with 11 other contenders, each competing for the title of god. To make matters worse, the new kid is a complete psycho who claims to be madly in love with him, and is ironically his best chance for survival. Mirai Nikki!AU, RusAme.
1. Killed With Kindness

_A/N: Backstreet's back, alright. _

_Summary: Alfred's perfect world changes when he's thrust into a survival game with 11 other contenders, each competing for the title of god. To make matters worse, the new kid is a complete psycho who claims to be madly in love with him, and is ironically his best chance for survival. Mirai Nikki!AU, RusAme._

_Pairings: RusAme, UKUS/USUK (later), Austria/Hungary, France/Jeanne, Netherlands/Canada, GerIta, one-sided!Romerica, and probably more idk._

_Rating: M, for violence, many brutal character deaths and murder, sexual themes/assault, dubcon/noncon, kidnapping, dark characters, yanderes, etc. An explicit version may be posted on ao3 at some point - I'll decide on that when I get that far. _

_Disclaimer: All the Hetalia characters belong to Himaruya, and the plot is heavily inspired by Mirai Nikki. For those who know what that is, cool. For those who don't, well, you can either look into it or just enjoy this fic as it is. _

* * *

**Chapter 1: Killed With Kindness**

_He bent over the focus of his adoration, lips planting themselves on the other's - just like in those movies the golden-blond always adored. What had they called it again? Ah, true love's kiss…_

_But the other didn't respond. _

"_Solnyshko?" He gently patted a stiff cheek. "You can wake up now."_

_The younger teen's head was pushed slightly from the touch, but beyond that there was no movement: no rise and fall of the chest, no fluttering golden lashes or twitch of the fingers...only nothing. _

"_Wake up...please, wake up! Solnyshko, please!" He cried as he desperately shook the lifeless body he cradled in his arms - but the sky blue eyes remained closed, skin still cold and white like a fragile, porcelain doll. "No, NO!" His breathing became more erratic as he clutched on tightly and held his lover close, sobbing into the crook of his neck, hoping to hear the once-lulling heartbeat sing to him once again. _

_He didn't understand...hadn't he-? So why..._

_No, he couldn't continue on like this, he _needed _the other to survive. _

"_Come back to me," he croaked, cheeks glistening with tears before rubbing them onto the other's shoulder. "I am sorry, my love...I was too weak. If only I had been stronger, I could have protected you..." he paused before slowly lifting his head to look at his beloved's once expressive face, a dangerous thought coming to him in his anguish. _

_This wasn't over, it couldn't be. He refused to accept this reality. _

_His violet gaze turned cold, determined, as he pressed a gentle kiss to the pallid temple before setting the body carefully on the ground. "I won't fail you," he growled. "I will kill anyone who hurts you, anyone who dare keep us apart. __**I swear it**__..." _

.oOo.

Claustrophobic halls, inescapable noise, and unbearable work; the first day of school was always the most dreaded, and for good reason. The cement walls enclosing them served only as a painful reminder of what the next ten months had in store, and the nice breeze outside for what they had lost. The many passages through the building were filled with hundreds of students who yearned for freedom, lamenting the end of their summer break.

Alfred scowled as he popped open his locker, filling it with books and binders he didn't need until after lunch. Oh, how he wished he was back in California! With his twin and parents, going to the beautiful beaches that were edged with white, fluffy sand and deep blue water...but no, here he was, back in New York with only a gorgeous tan to remember the good times with. Until the holidays, he thought with a heavy sigh, remembering how he would be stuck preparing for college while having to deal with a mountain of schoolwork and responsibility cutting into his social life...he'd just have to try and make the most of it where he could.

"Al-kun," he jumped out of his stupor and blinked at the smaller teen beside him, a smirk gracing his lips.

"Oh, hey Kiku! It's been a few weeks," he recovered quickly and the Japanese teen smiled back apologetically.

"Indeed. How was your trip?"

Alfred laughed as he shut his locker door, not bothering to lock it. "I literally sent you pictures and texted you the entire time," he headed to homeroom, moving slowly as he waited for his best friend to catch up.

The brunet nodded, picking up his pace as he remembered the images fondly, "Yes, they were very beautiful. Have you considered going into photography or film?"

"I've thought about it, once or twice…" He trailed off, not really sure if he wanted to share his personal hobby with the rest of the world. It was something he did for himself, and he was certain others would think he was weird and brush off his journaling as 'stupid.' They were too sentimental and he didn't want them to ever have the chance of being used against him.

As he and Kiku made their way to class, he waved and smiled at all the students he recognized, as was expected of someone of his social status. After being stopped to carry on a few conversations, the Japanese teen was finally able to pull the American away and guide him to AP Calc. Sending his friend a grateful look, Alfred looked over the sea of desks for one that was worthy enough to be his spot for the rest of the school year.

Second row from the back, right next to large, open windows. _Perfect_.

He rushed to the desk and claimed it, setting his red backpack on the ground beside it as he seated himself. Kiku took the spot right next to him, his bag on his chair as he took out his summer work and neatly centered it on his table. The blond chuckled at that, he was a firm believer in not getting ready until _after_ the bell rang, especially since they still had homeroom to go. As with every year, he'd be clinging on to the fringes of summer until the very end.

The bell rung and they swiftly did their pledge of allegiance before their classroom television turned on with the morning newscast. His blue eyes blankly stared at the screen for a few moments before he decided he was bored and pulled his phone onto his lap, updating his journal with anything new he could think of. The sound of the door forcing itself open startled him - he as well as many other surprised students fixed their attention onto the distressed newcomer, who's violet eyes stared at them all like a deer in headlights.

He was trembling, which elicited a couple of snickers from the others. Alfred scowled at that; it was pretty obvious the other student was terrified, which now had only worsened. It was hard being new, especially as a senior. Did no one think to give the poor guy a tour of the place before thrusting him into the flow of things? That was messed up, though he felt a bit of relief when he saw the teacher approach the teen and talk to him as the announcements came to a close.

"Hello, class, I'd like you to meet Ivan Braginsky. He's come all the way from Russia, so please be courteous and help him get around."

'_Russia_?' Alfred grinned, impressed. It definitely explained the guy's appearance - a rounded jawline with a rather large nose fixed between his unnaturally colored eyes, right-parted platinum-blond hair and pale, marble skin, as though he never spent a day of his life outside. He was tall, muscular, with broad shoulders that piqued the American's interest, a light blush spreading across his cheeks. Damn, the new guy was _handsome_, like a Targaryen prince.

His classmates seemed to have had a different impression, as evident by their judgemental sneers and the way they carefully guarded their space. Sure, he was a bit odd with his winter attire in early September - a green turtleneck shirt, a long pink scarf, blue pants tucked into knee-high, brown, leather boots. And the way he hunched over, using his shoulders as a way to shrink himself, made him look like a potential target to any of the bullies in his class that preyed on insecurity. After being gestured to find a seat, the new guy nodded shakily as he took tentative steps down his aisle, eyes avoiding contact with everyone as he searched for a place to sit.

"Oh, god, a _commie_," Alfred glared at the kid who muttered that under his breath, resulting in the Russian to flinch, having heard it clearly. Didn't the Cold War happen like ages ago or something? He may have sucked at history, but he knew that whenever it happened it was long before his time, and before any of his peers for that matter.

"He's pretty weird, isn't he?" His gaze shifted to the girl he caught whispering and he glowered at her. Was no one seriously going to give the new kid a chance to get adjusted? His eyes glanced at Kiku, who's brown irises were averted nervously. Was he seriously missing something?

He glanced up as the Russian passed him, heading to the empty seat directly behind him, not even acknowledging him. Pursing his lips, Alfred turned in his seat, watching as Ivan pulled the seat back, making a loud scruff against the tiled floor. His face flushed in embarrassment, gaze darting wildly to all the students who stared at him with annoyance before they rolled their eyes and faced the front.

Except Alfred, who when their eyes met, smiled at him reassuringly, only for it to widen when the other stared at him with disbelief.

"Hey, it's Ivan, right? My name's Alfred."

.oOo.

He wasn't following the new guy, but it was convenient that they shared many classes together, so at least he could keep an eye on him. Truth be told, he was _concerned_. It had been about two weeks since the first day, but the student body's perception on Ivan hadn't changed in the slightest. Even Kiku and his brother seemed unnerved by him, which he didn't quite understand. Sure, he was often told he couldn't read the atmosphere, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't feel that 'ominous and intimidating' aura everyone talked about. To him, Ivan was just a socially awkward teenager who had issues getting along with people his own age. So what? Maybe he just needed one friend to break that mold since not everyone made friends easily. Hell, he expected Kiku to be a little more sympathetic considering how isolationist he was in second grade after moving all the way from Japan.

He watched as the other's silvery brows narrowed, eyes focused on his paper as he tried to scribble down history notes as quickly as he could. The lecture was too fast, even for Alfred's liking. His heart went out to Ivan as even _he_, a native-speaker, struggled to keep up with the teacher who seemed to never take a breather. Violet eyes flickered to him, clearly bothered, as though he thought Alfred was just another person here to give him a hard time - that made him frown. Had the student body treated him so poorly he lost his faith in everyone? That needed to change.

Raising his hand and waving it around excessively to get the teacher's attention, he ignored the look the Russian sent him, his skin paling more than usual while his pupils constricted in panic, as though he thought Alfred were about to rat him out for murder. He didn't understand _why_ the other would be so paranoid, it wasn't like he did anything wrong.

A sigh. "Yes, Alfred?"

"Um, can you like slow down a bit? I'm having a hard time keeping up," not that he was writing things down in the first place, he'd long since thrown in the towel, but a few other students jumped on board with him, nodding in agreement and begging the teacher to tone it down a bit.

"Oh, I see," the teacher rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Very well," he continued with his lesson, true to word, slowing down considerably.

Turning to Ivan, he offered him a small smile, only to frown when he watched Ivan cease his blank staring and turn away, face a bright red. Oh no, did he embarrass him even further? _Shit_. Briefly he wondered if he should take a more discreet route when trying to look out for the big guy, though he had no idea how he would accomplish that. He wasn't exactly the most subtle person, and not being the hero was completely out of the question.

In his contemplation, he completely missed the shy glances violet eyes sent him for the rest of the day.

.oOo.

He was updating his journal again when his twin nudged his arm.

"What?" He glanced up at the cafeteria table, eying the older twin with annoyance while watching him take the empty seat to his left.

"It's like everytime I look at you, your face is buried in that thing," Matthew huffed softly. "How have your teachers not confiscated it yet?"

"You sound like mom," he tapped the power button of his smartphone and tucked it into his pocket, eyes wandering over his table. Feliciano was chatting enthusiastically as Ludwig listened, face stoic as usual, eating his lunch while Kiku sat on the German's other side going through homework that was due the next day. It wasn't like he had a conversation to partake in, considering how his twin had just come back from talking with Carlos, who refused to sit at their table as long as the American sat there. He needed to entertain himself _somehow, _and the lunchroom provided so many opportunities to jot down all of his observations into his phone.

Could he join a random table and talk to the people there? Sure. Did he want to? Not really. Call him petty, but he was pretty fed up with the recent talk going around school lately, all concerning the Russian new student and mean-spirited rumors. He'd try to stop it, like defending Ivan's reasons for changing in the bathroom during gym, though that only resulted in the other guys to call him gay...which he had to remind them he was bisexual and a member of GSA, but whatever. _Politely_, he asked for the rumors to stop, because no, being shy and nervous around people did not equate to being an anti-social pariah. Obviously, that didn't work, and people still had the nerve to think _he_ was the ridiculous one.

If Ivan were here, he'd sit and talk with him, but the poor guy had been so shunned in the first week that it was practically impossible to find him at this time.

At the end of the day, eighth period, he found himself bored in his music class. Mr. Edelstein was busy working on making adjustments to their Marching Band drill before their first game with Matthew and Mei, the drum majors, while he had already practiced the hell out of his trumpet. As a result, Edelstein kind of left him to his own devices, which meant he was free to wander the halls and find something to do before he got caught by some strict teacher with a stick up their ass.

Which is how he found himself in Feli and Kiku's art class, which was currently being student-taught by his cousin, Francis Bonnefoy. He loved the guy, he was practically an older brother to him and his twin, having lived with him for a while due to problems with his mother. Years ago, the Frenchman used babysit him and Matthew in their lonely, big house with his long-term girlfriend Jeanne while his own parents preoccupied themselves with their demanding jobs.

"Ah, Alfred, what are you doing here? You should be in class!" Francis scolded as the teen strolled in innocently, ignoring him to smile charmingly at the elderly professor who had been unable to resist. With a nod and dismissive wave of her hand, she allowed him to stay.

"Oh, Francis, I'm sure he'll be fine," she chuckled sweetly before going back to her own project.

With an amused sigh, Francis ruffled his golden-blond hair fondly. "Very well, try not distract the others too much."

"No promises," Alfred shrugged carelessly before strolling toward his friends, blue eyes widening as he saw their work. "Wow, those are _really_ good," he complimented honestly. Because they _were_. Feliciano had done a realistic still-life charcoal drawing and Kiku had a beautiful painting of cherry blossoms blooming. He'd have to sell his soul to the devil or something to be that good an artist.

"Ah, thank you, Alfredo!" Feli beamed, turning to him with amber eyes shining brightly.

"Hai, arigato, Al-kun," Kiku smiled gently, a small, modest blush on his cheeks from the compliment.

"Oh, when are you coming to the restaurant again?" The Italian asked, cocking his head to the side. "I think Lovino misses you!" Alfred let out a soft chuckle at that, noting how even though Feli and Ludwig were his classmates, he seemed to get along better with their older brothers. Not that he didn't like the two, they just weren't super close or anything. Sometimes it felt like he only really hung around them because they were friends with Kiku, and that Lovino always spoiled him with food while Gilbert was good friends with Francis.

"Maybe we can make a date of it soon," he suggested with a grin, always willing to make time for some delicious food. Feli's father was a very successful chef, owner of a couple of authentic Italian restaurants: one of which was the _Il Veneziano,_ which was local and managed by Feliciano's older brother, while _Il Romano_ was run by Mr. Vargas himself in the heart of the Big Apple. To say they were living well was an understatement. As far as Alfred knew, the brothers had the biggest house in the neighborhood, and that was saying something, considering how his own family was pretty well-off.

"Mon cher, I am tempted to agree," Francis smirked as he came over with his arms crossed. "We can settle a group gathering soon, however I want you to do your grand frère a favor and at least _look_ like you are participating in this class."

He groaned dramatically. "_Fine_, I _guess_ I will," his eyes roamed the classroom, looking for a free easel he could claim, only to catch sight of one right beside a very familiar platinum-blond.

_Oh_, he hadn't known Ivan was in this class. That made things interesting, but he scowled when he noticed two of his peers holding back laughs as they eyed the Russian's painting with cruel smirks. Ivan looked uncomfortable with the attention, gaze flickering back and forth between the others and his art before they landed on him with surprise, almost pleading his one ally for help. But then he averted his gaze, as though he were ashamed of himself for having reached out.

Sensing his friend's sudden determination, Kiku grabbed his sleeve, a worried expression on his face. "Al-kun, I don't think-"

Alfred shook his head. "Hey, I got this, don't worry," he grinned reassuringly, though it didn't reach his eyes. He was _pissed_, not tolerating bullying in the slightest.

Making his way to the back to quickly grab a charcoal pen and paper, he made his way back to the easel, looking over Ivan's shoulder to see what he was painting.

"Oh, nice sunflower," he found himself saying, startling the taller teen who whipped his head around to look at him, his pale fingers trembling nervously. He took a step toward it, marveling the bright, blue sky and brown circle at the center of the page, long, golden petals sticking out of it. The Russian was currently working on the stem, but Alfred found himself impressed with Ivan's skills in shading. "Looking great!"

"A-ah, t-thank you," he stammered, accent thick and attractive as always. There was a pronounced blush on his face as his violet eyes struggled to look at Alfred directly, despite the fact they were so close to each other.

"Of course," he winked, before clipping his sheet of paper to the easel, completely missing the awestruck glances Ivan kept sneaking toward him.

"Hey - " both the Russian and Alfred glanced toward the voice, and the golden-blond narrowed his eyes as he recognized them as the assholes who had been making fun of Ivan before. He didn't like the mischievous glances they sent each other, nor the bullshit smirks on their faces. "For a commie asshole, you sure like to pretend you're hot shit, huh?"

Ivan brows raised as he squeaked, "I-I do not understand?"

"Don't play innocent! For the past few days you've been acting like you're better than everyone else. It's pissing me off!"

Alfred walked to Ivan's side, crossing his arms defensively. Okay, that wasn't true at all. No one was even giving the Russian a chance to assimilate into their school, there was a _reason_ he didn't socialize with anyone. They were literally just trying to mess with the new kid for no good reason. "Kevin, shut the fuck up," he snapped, only for Ivan to stare at him with a bewildered expression.

"Hey, Al. Trying to be the hero again?" Kevin let out a sardonic chuckle, hands innocently hiding behind his back.

"Fuck you, you've all been giving him shit since day one. Just leave him the hell alone!" He fumed, getting fed up with the unjust bullshit.

"Why are you defending this weirdo?" Chris huffed, gesturing toward Ivan and talking about him like he wasn't even there.

"Maybe because you're both being assholes?" He replied like it were the most obvious thing. Hint, it _was_.

"Oh my god, can you mind your own business? For once? Please?" Kevin smiled tightly. "Chill the fuck out, we were _joking_."

"Next time you joke, make sure it's actually funny," Alfred bit back with a glare before turning back to his easel. As he stroked the paper with his pencil, he noticed Ivan was watching him, dazed and distracted. "Hey, man, are you oka-"

"There!" He looked in time to see Kevin reveal what he had hid behind his back, a can of red paint had been lunged toward Ivan's painting. "Now it's accurate, you red bastard!"

Alfred could only stare in shock as paint coated the Russian's once-beautiful sunflower, some of it splashing back and coating Ivan's clothes and skin in red splatter. Recovering, the American turned to Kevin, absolutely furious. "What the fuck is your problem?"

Francis had heard the commotion. "Mon dieu, is everything alright over there-"

"No!" the American replied, blue eyes focusing on Ivan only to pause in alarm. The Russian was shaking, and his violet irises were constricted and wild as he stared at his trembling dripping hands. "I-Ivan?" He asked softly, filled with worry. Something was off, this wasn't right.

"Ty mertv," the Russian's voice was low, almost a growl, a cruel glower on his face as he grabbed the students arm before he could retreat. His eyes were darkened, menacing with the intent to harm. Suddenly afraid, Kevin tried to pull back, only for a loud, disgusting crack to fill the silence, save for the agonized scream he let out. But Ivan wasn't done, suddenly they both were on the floor, the silvery-blond seated on the other's abdomen, hands clenched around his neck, listening to the beautiful sounds of pained gasps for air and pleads for mercy. A twisted grin crawled onto his face, as he strangled the other teen.

Alfred removed the hand covering his mouth, blinking out of his horror to focus on the situation. Okay, Kevin may be an asshole, but he didn't deserve to _die_. He had to snap Ivan out of whatever the hell he was doing. Quickly he moved forward, wrapping his arms around Ivan's chest and pulling back with all his strength, the force of it had apparently been enough to surprise the other into letting go, with both their bodies tumbling back, knocking over the Russian's easel in the process. Alfred found himself in a daze as he laid on his back, a heavy body on top of him. His hands pushed against the other's chest, only to be met with surprised violet eyes that looked fearful, almost on the verge of tears.

And suddenly the body was gone, and he sat up, noticing Ivan was breathing erratically. They made eye contact for a moment, before the Russian darted out of the room.

"Alfred, wait!" He ignored his cousin's pleas and ran after the other, chasing him down the halls, nearly losing him until he heard the bathroom door at the end of the hall slam shut. The stoner's bathroom. It had to be. When he entered the room and turned the corner, he was met with a sight he hadn't expected.

"Oh, new kid..." he gasped with worry, immediately rushing to the Russian's side who sobbed as he stared at his reflection. Alfred held the other's hands in his own and inspected the actual blood that dripped from Ivan's knuckles, his blue eyes briefly glancing at shattered mirror, a crimson liquid seeping into its myriad of cracks. Carefully, he tried to meet violet orbs, "We need to clean you up." He brought the bloodied hands that now stained his own to the faucet and turned it on, then instructed the other to clean out the wounds and paint as he took off his sweater. "Give me your hands - quickly!" he ordered, and like a child in trouble, Ivan listened, watching dully as Alfred wrapped his hoodie around the other's hands and then applied pressure. God, was he grateful he wore red. "You need to see the nurse."

"N-Nyet," Ivan croaked, tears falling out of his eyes.

Alfred felt his heart pang with empathy. "You're hurt," he said softly, looking Ivan in the eyes with concern. "Let me take care of you."

"N-no nurse," the other teen begged, voice trembling.

He let out a defeated sigh. "Alright, no nurse. But I'll take you to my house, okay? It'll just be me and the cats, is that alright with you?" Ivan had averted his gaze and paused before finally relenting with a meek nod.

They cautiously snuck out of school through the back entrance and made their way down the bike path, since Matthew had the key to the car and he lived pretty close by. He took the time to send his brother a text asking him to get his backpack and to let Mr. Edelstein know he was going to miss band practice before tucking his phone away. By the time they made it to his large, colonial style home, Alfred could feel his sweater was damp with blood. Well, he wouldn't be wearing that for a while, he sighed as he took his hand away to take his keys out of his pocket and open the back door, immediately whisking Ivan inside to the nearest bathroom. He worked diligently as he cleansed the wound once again, gently massaging an antibiotic onto it afterwards. Violet eyes watched, silently, relishing in his soothing touches. As his bronzed hands worked to wrap a gauge around the wounds, he found himself finally breaking the silence. "Don't listen to the others, they're all just a bunch of pretentious assholes."

"T-they are not wrong to treat me so...is all my fault. I am monster..." Ivan's voice quivered, and Alfred could only stare at him sympathetically for a moment before continuing the task at hand.

"No," he shook his head. "You're _not_. You didn't do anything wrong."

"But-"

"Some people," he began steadily. "Are just so filled with hate, they don't know what to do with it... so they try to push it onto others, especially people they see as easy targets." When he finished wrapping, he held Ivan's hands in his lap and checked to see if the bandages were secure.

"How do I prevent this hate from affecting me? How do I stop it before is too late? Is it already too late?" His voice became more desperate, more intense as his body trembled.

Alfred shook his head again, gently caressing the back of Ivan's shaking hands in a comforting manor. "No, it's not too late. It's never too late…" He paused, facing the taller teen with a thoughtful expression before giving him a soft smile. "I suppose...you just need to find something you love and just focus on that."

.oOo.

It had been days since the incident and Alfred was waiting by the locker he believed to be Ivan's. A few student were sending him weary glances, as they had been, so that was nothing new. Word spread fast around their school, and to know that the new student everyone had bad vibes about sent Kevin to the hospital, and not only that, but the fact that Alfred went to his defense hadn't been so good for his reputation. But right now he didn't care about that if it meant doing the right thing. Clearly Ivan had some issues with bullying, otherwise he wouldn't have had such an extreme reaction to it. A part of him wanted to ask about it, but maybe it was best to save the meddling for another time.

He seriously hoped he heard correctly that today was the day Ivan's suspension had ended. It had to be rough going through that just after arriving at a new school. If the rumors had been bad before, he could only dread how much worse they were going to be moving forward.

A couple of gasps were heard and he blinked up from his phone, watching as the Russian strode toward him with a long, beige coat, an excited smile stretched across his face, almost as if they hadn't seen each other in years. Confused, he raised a brow, briefly wondering if this was the same nervous teen he patched up a few days ago.

"Fedya!" Alfred was surprised to hear Ivan sound so happy, but he welcomed it nonetheless. "I missed you," he added gently, causing the American to blush over how affectionate it sounded.

"U-um, hey," he rubbed his neck awkwardly, managing a small grin of his own. "How've you been? Things been good lately?" His gaze lingered on the other's hands, which were concealed by black, leather gloves.

Ivan nodded enthusiastically. "Never better."

There was something different about the Russian. He spoke and held himself more confidently and smiled freely. Suddenly he didn't seem to care about the opinions of others, and was focused solely on him. What happened to the socially awkward guy from the other day? What the hell happened that made Ivan change so drastically? Whatever the reason, he seemed happier, and that was enough for Alfred to brush off his curiosity. Maybe he was glad he finally had a friend and that's what changed his persona? It seemed like a good explanation.

"Let's walk to class together, alright?" He suggested, noticing the way the other's gaze softened, twinkling, a warm smile curling his lip.

"Da. We are friends, right?"

Alfred chuckled fondly, relieved to see the other was faring much better. "Yeah, we're friends."

* * *

_A/N: Yeah, so that's that. For those who never heard of Mirai Nikki, I'm well aware this may not make sense, or maybe it does, I don't know since I'm not reading with fresh eyes. Those who have seen the whole show, you will VERY much catch on to what happened. For the record, I'm not gonna explain anything until we're further along so I don't spoil stuff lol. _

_Also, keep in mind, Alfred is a very unreliable narrator and most of the fic is in his perspective. So many things and red flags will be brushed off as nothing, but hopefully you all will be able to notice them. _

_Yes, I am a Game of Thrones fan for those who noticed the reference, and yes I'm pretending the last season never happened(:_

_I don't have a beta or anything, so if you see any mistakes or wanna critique, feel free to let me know. And I know the Hetalia fandom is dead so I don't expect much, lol. I just thought this would be an interesting idea to try out, so I'm doing it. Why not?_


	2. Glimpse of the Future

_A/N: So some things I want you all to be aware of: 1) The summary of this story won't be happening for a few chapters, as right now I'm establishing the world, characters, and giving some insight into their lives as I slip in a ton of foreshadow. This is mainly for the purpose of contrast, because people will change over the course of this fic 2) WHEN the game starts, shit will start to go down and it will go down fast, so just keep in mind that the characters will be reacting to these stressful events. I plan on making this a _little_ bit more realistic than the original source material, but that's not saying much tbh lol._

* * *

**Chapter 2: Glimpse of the Future**

"Alfred, why is he _here_?"

The blond in question blinked at his twin, raising a perplexed brow as he idled, lounging on the bed of freshly-mowed grass. "Huh?" Looking over his shoulder toward the bleachers, he saw a very familiar Russian gazing down at him, shyly waving when they made eye contact. "Oh, uh, moral support?" Instinctively, he waved back.

"Alfred," Matthew pinched the bridge of his nose as he seated himself, legs crossed. "You don't find anything off about him? Not one thing?"

He groaned in response, not this _again_. "What are you talking about?"

"Let's start from the beginning when you were the only one dumb enough to approach him, all smiley and cute like you always do," Alfred's mouth dropped, offended. "No bad vibes there?"

"He's a new student, Matt. He literally has no friends, so of course he's gonna be awkward as hell."

"Al, no one looks that guilty or that defensive unless they are actually hiding something. There were people who _tried_ to talk to him, but he would just glare at them or ignore them. It was like he didn't want to be friends with anyone, he just wanted to be left alone."

"No one wants to be alone," Alfred snapped with narrowed eyes. He knew from personal experience, and the way Ivan broke down the other day confirmed they shared that sentiment.

"The first week of class he snapped at Feliciano and said he didn't need anyone else's help. All he did was try to show him where the paints were, and that was before he attacked Kevin," was Matthew's reply, scowling.

"Um, he's never acted that way with me?"

"Because, Al, you don't pay attention to these things called social cues. You're too damn persistent for your own good when you put your mind to something," indigo eyes flickered to the bleachers anxiously before they were back on him.

"Are you done pointing out my flaws yet? Because I would _really_ love to enjoy my snack break in peace." Hell, even pulling the grass out of the football field seemed like a more favorable way to pass the time, not that he wasn't already doing that.

"I'm being serious," Matthew frowned, eyes roaming over to their friends and other band members as they got water on the track course. He had plenty of time to keep this conversation private, but only if Alfred would shut up and _listen_. "Whatever you did, you broke through Ivan's wall. Congratulations, you now have a stalker!"

Alfred's tongue smacked the roof of his mouth as he made a look of disbelief, "Ivan's not my stalker. We're friends."

"You're naïveté is adorable, but no," Matthew sighed, pausing for a moment to get his bearings, bringing up the mental checklist he worked on. "The guy is obsessed with you," the younger twin rolled his eyes. "No, hear me out. He always looms over you when you're walking the halls, if anyone tries to talk to you, he grabs your attention by interrupting them. He's even glaring at me at this very moment!" Alfred turned his head and eyed Ivan skeptically, only to see the Russian smiling innocently. "Well, way to be obvious about it."

"I think you're overreacting," the tan teen stuck out his tongue "Maybe he has a crush on me."

"A possessive one? Stop thinking with your dick and focus."

Alfred scoffed. "Listen, Matt, I know you are interested in psychology and shit, but stop treating me and everyone like we're patients. It was annoying back then, it's annoying now-"

"Because I'm worried about you! Mom and I were seriously concerned you were schizophrenic-" That earned him a nasty glare which shut him up. "Sorry, back to Ivan," Alfred let out a sigh of relief. "His behavior is abnormal and I don't feel comfortable with him hanging around you. I think you should at the very least set up some boundaries."

"So...what you're saying is that Ivan to you is what Carlos is to me?" He made a shit-eating grin at Matthew's incredulous look.

"You hoser, you know that's not what I meant!"

"No, no, I think I get it now. You don't get along with him and now you don't want him anywhere near me and therefore you," he sat up enthusiastically. "Sounds pretty familiar, huh?"

"Alfred, stop twisting my words," Matthew growled sternly. "You're not dumb, I know you understand what I'm getting at."

"Fine," Alfred waved his hand dismissively. "I'll talk to him, set up boundaries and what not. Tell him how friendships work in America. Happy?" He took a big gulp of water from his bottle.

"For now," Matthew replied with a firm nod before pushing himself off the ground. "Get your section together, we're going back to zero set."

"'Kay," Alfred watched as his brother left, brows furrowing as he processed their conversation in a more serious light. Matthew just didn't understand, he wasn't there when Ivan went through a mental breakdown. No one had been, they didn't know about the other's vulnerability. For Christ's sake, he sobbed over not wanting to be perceived as a _monster. _It was like _Beauty and the Beast_, not to imply that Alfred was Belle or anything, but more so the fact that the Beast was really just a sensitive prince hidden beneath a cold exterior while those that tried to hurt him, the Gastons of the world, were the real monsters. Okay, so maybe he was Belle. There wasn't anything wrong with that, after all, she was the hero of the story, which meant it was his duty as Ivan's friend to help him reach his true potential. Alfred could already see it shining through: how sweet the Russian would be as they talked, the way he helped him in World History since he didn't know shit about European drama, or the hours they could just talk and text about anything random that came to mind as if they'd been lifelong friends.

No, the hard part would be getting everyone to disregard their preconceived notions about Ivan and see him in a new light.

.oOo.

Usually for gym, Alfred would pick flag football as his activity despite his ill-feelings toward the sport after the school's football team rejected him freshman year. It was still fun to play and he was good friends with Kyle Kirkland, the team's quarterback, who was also in his gym class and did swim with him during the winter season. However, considering the torrential downpour at the moment, his next best choice was either volleyball or weight-room, and since he was in the mood to be lazy and play on his phone, the latter option won.

Which is how he ended up on a stationary bike, 'exercising,' when really he was just updating his journal, listening to music, and texting his peers because the gym teacher that supervised the area wouldn't say anything as long as he did _something_. The color guard captain Emma Maes was here, so he had the option to hang out with her and her friends if he _really_ wanted to, but he was deterred by the few familiar faces between them he preferred to avoid.

When the empty bike beside him suddenly became occupied, he turned to see who was seated beside him, smiling when it was only Ivan dressed in his long-sleeve under armour shirt that displayed his well-defined, sculpted muscles - not that Alfred ever caught himself staring at them, _of course not_, but he also wore that scarf he never took off. The American would be lying if he said he wasn't curious about it.

"I see you followed me here, huh?" he teased. Ivan followed him like a lost puppy in gym, picking any activity he chose. In flag football, the guy was a beast, a complete pro that should probably get recruited in the NFL as soon as he graduated. The way he charged with amazing stamina and speed, or the strength he had in in his throws, god, they were beautiful to watch. He was surprised that only Carlos approached the Russian and tried to persuade him to join the team, but then remembered a majority of the student body was too intimidated by him. It was a shame, because maybe the team would actually win a game with two competent players, and no, one of them was not his twin's asshole friend.

"Where you go, I follow," Ivan said proudly with a nod.

Nothing in the other's tone implied it was meant to be creepy. He didn't know what the hell Mattie was smoking when he said Ivan was a stalker. "Even if I'm about to jump off a cliff?"

"I would not let you do so," was the simple, but firm reply he was met with. Letting out a small chuckle, Alfred went to update his journal. "What are you doing? Texting?" A knowing smirk stretched across Ivan's lips, a fond and teasing twinkle in his violet eyes.

Averting his gaze awkwardly at the other's charming behavior, he nodded hesitantly. "Y-yeah," not really, but his diary was personal. Ivan would probably lose all respect for him if he knew the truth, that underneath all his popularity and cheerful facade was an observant, lonely guy who liked to meticulously document everything he heard or saw. If anyone saw the shit stored in there, they'd know he had an incredible supply of blackmail material, though he never intended to use it in the first place as that was not the diary's purpose. Still, people would grow suspicious of him and think he was a shitty person, he didn't need more drama in his already hectic life.

"Ah, are you thinking negatively of yourself again?" Alfred blinked in surprise, relaxing his brows and falling out of his trance as he stared at the other. How the hell did he just _know_? "You are not as alone as you think, I am here," Ivan smiled sweetly while the American could only feel his jaw drop as he struggled to respond. The way the Russian read him perfectly was insane, only his mother, Matthew, and Kiku could do so, and they each had known him for most of his life. It was only the very beginning of October, barely a month since school started, and somehow Ivan acted like they'd been together for a lifetime - knowing every detail of his life, memorizing every facial change...yet he didn't know anything about the other in return, despite knowing that there was clearly something problematic in his life. The guy punched a _mirror_, for christ's sake.

Maybe Ivan was a stalker, but maybe he was somebody who was just as lonely in the world as he was. Perhaps even more so. Matthew always thought he had everything because he was popular, 'well-liked,' but that was far from the truth. The only people that could hang around him for long periods of time were Kiku and his twin, and he knew that even they had their limits at times. His social status was high only because he was attractive, came from a good family and economic background, and starred in every extracurricular activity he partook in. Should he crumble or fall from his pedestal, who would be there for him? Middle school was the perfect reminder of who he was without his popularity and who his true friends were. To the rest of the school, he wasn't a person, he was an _asset_, and somehow he found himself accepting this role easily as it distracted him from his true self - the side of him that made his mother, best friend, and _twin_ think that there was something very wrong with him. They didn't understand, no one ever would, to them he'd just been crazy and needed psychiatric help.

He looked it up, it was perfectly normal for an adult to have imaginary friends, those people were called writers. However, he also read that it was a bad thing when you couldn't discern reality from fantasy, which was where his problem lied. None of that mattered anymore though, he said his goodbyes to his fictional friends and world, and now lived in constant regret each day because of it. That's what adulthood was all about, right? Constant disappointment.

"Ivan, do you feel lonely often?" He asked seriously, voice light.

The Russian paused, legs no longer cycling as he leaned back in his seat, gaze hazy for a moment before softening, his gentle smile returning. "Nyet, never when I'm with you."

Alfred felt his heart melt and face heat up as the corner of his lip quirked coyly. They were two peas in a pod, Ivan _understood _him. Matthew was alone a lot, but never realized that he was the likeable one out of the two. He could make friends with anyone - real, _genuine_ friends. That was more valuable than his title as 'Mr. Popular,' where most of his relationships were artificial, at best they were 'friends' but simply lacked any meaningful connection. Hell, the only person who knew about his journal was Kiku, and his best friend didn't even know the reason why he was so obsessed with it. It was exhausting, having to watch what he said or it'd be used against him, to do something big like come out of the closet and then be labeled an attention whore, to have people hit on him and then realize they just wanted to hook-up with a pretty face and not actually pursue anything with him because he was too annoying, or the mild version where people pretended to be his friend so they could boost their own reputation, then turn on him when they were secure. A good thing about band was that he felt comfortable with most of the kids there, and Kyle was probably the one student not a part of it that he genuinely liked to hang out with. Everyone else just couldn't be trusted in his eyes.

But now he had Ivan. And Mattie wanted Alfred to drop him, hell, most of the student body did. Whenever he enjoyed something, it was like everyone just wanted to take it away from him. His friendship with Ivan was something he couldn't afford to lose, not after what he saw. He was obligated to help the other get through whatever demons haunted him.

Alfred let out a heavy sigh. "Mattie thinks we should set up boundaries for our friendship, he thinks we're too close or something," he rolled his eyes as he checked his notifications.

"Perhaps Matvey should learn to hold his tongue, lest he lose it," blue eyes darted to the Russian, brow raised, startled by the response. It was said rather sweetly, so he wasn't sure if it was meant to be a joke or if it was actually a veiled threat.

The younger teen shrugged uncomfortably. "Okay, maybe don't say things like that? He's annoying, but I still love him," frowning, he added "He just cares about me too much for his own good, but his heart's in the right place."

Ivan hummed in response, his expression amused. "Very well, continue on."

"Well, maybe if you integrated with my group of friends, people will start seeing the side of you that I see, and then everyone will stop treating you like you have the plague," he suggested. "You could start sitting with us at lunch."

Ivan pursed his lips in thought before staring at Alfred seriously. "And this would make you happy?"

The American nodded. "Of course, I like hanging out with you."

Purple eyes brightened with mirth. "I see...then yes, I will join you at lunch tomorrow."

"Awesome!"

.oOo.

"Do you know if Francis arranged a date for our group dinner?" Matthew asked his brother, meeting him in their normal spot in front of the band room before heading down the hall and toward the cafeteria.

"With our friends at _Il Veneziano_?" Alfred replied before nodding. "Yeah, he and Gilbert should be free the 20th, so like two weeks."

The older twin paused thoughtfully. "Isn't that the day after our competition?"

"Yup, so it'll be a good celebration. I'm confident we'll win, we got gold when we went against those pretentious assholes at St. Mary's."

"You know mum and dad almost enrolled us there, right?" Matthew laughed with a shake of his head. "But yeah, they are pretentious, mum couldn't stand it."

"Why don't Ludwig and Feli go there?" Alfred raised an amused brow. "Feli literally lives in a manor, he'd be accepted with open arms."

"Well, for a school that isn't a vocational or private school, we have a really good ranking in the state. We've got the best equipment, we're more diverse, we have better extracurriculars, a solid alumni, we're _humble_, the list goes on."

"That's true-," Matthew jolted and made to grab for the hook of Alfred's arm, but was too late as the other had suddenly run into another person. Nearly falling back, large hands held onto his younger twin's upper arms and held him in place, right in very close proximity to a broad chest.

A flustered laugh escaped Alfred as he took a step back, Ivan's arms falling reluctantly when he pulled away. Matthew froze, knowing that this was the same guy who'd sent Kevin to the hospital and was now stalking his brother. Despite Alfred's claim that Ivan had been innocent in the situation, no amount of bullying warranted almost committing murder. This guy had to be seriously messed up if he could break someone's bones and then nearly crush their throat, it concerned Matthew that his brother thought there was nothing unnerving about the Russian. The way he smiled at Alfred, genuine and apologetic, a bit of blush on his cheek, definitely made him question Ivan's real motives.

"Oh, hey Ivan! You actually came!" His younger twin chirped, tone welcoming.

"Of course, Fedya!" The other's violet gaze softened. "I said I would, did I not?"

"Yeah, you can just stick by me, okay?" Matthew sent his twin a distressed look that pleaded for him to take back the offer, but was ignored.

The Russian beamed. "Always. You are happy now?"

"I am _very_ happy," Alfred agreed with a bright smile of his own, turning to look at his brother before his eyes widened as though he forgot something. "Oh! This is my twin Matthew, in case you two haven't met yet," he gestured toward the other, who sent him an uneasy look before his eyes landed on the taller student.

There was a smile on Ivan's face, it would be almost inviting if it didn't feel so...forced. "Matvey, pleasure is mine," he regarded him with a nod, yet there was no warmth in his voice.

"L-likewise…" Matthew stammered awkwardly, hating how his brother put him on the spot like that. The one time he hadn't completely forgotten his presence...

Fortunately for him, Ivan had no interest in carrying on the conversation, his attention fixed on Alfred once again. "After you, solnyshko!" They walked into the cafeteria side-by-side, Matthew scowled as he trailed after them, not appreciating being forced as the third wheel. A part of him was tempted to bail and sit with his friend Carlos or with the guys he knew from the hockey team, even going back to the band room seemed appealing, but being the responsible sibling meant looking out for his younger brother when he felt the other was threatened.

And Ivan's friendly guise was definitely a threat in his eyes.

Ivan seated himself beside Alfred and across from Kiku while Matthew took his twin's other side. The American introduced Ivan to his friends, only for the brunet and redhead to pale when they saw the Russian, clearly uncomfortable with their newest addition. They remembered the wild expression he had as he attacked Kevin, and no amount of sweetness would erase that image from their minds.

But Ivan was impassive as he regarded them with a nod. While he ignored Kiku completely, there was a gleam of recognition in his eyes as he stared at Feliciano and Ludwig. The atmosphere chilled, his greeting to them was curt, an intense fire concealed by purple irises. The Italian teen shook behind the German, who stared at the other with a baffled expression. Matthew and Kiku exchanged a confused glance, briefly wondering if the three were familiar with one another with a dose of bad blood mixed in.

"You would not happen to be son of Romulus Vargus? The famous chef?" Ivan inquired suddenly as he leaned forward, violet eyes focused on the redhead.

Feliciano gulped, "Yes, he is mi papa." It wasn't a secret, but it also wasn't something he liked to flaunt.

"The food is good. I am glad to have tried it," at this, Feliciano blinked in surprise, finally able to meet the other's gaze.

"You-You think so?"

Ivan nodded. "Your father is very well known, starting at bottom and now on top. It makes me curious how he accomplished such a thing through hard work alone."

Flattered, the smaller male allowed himself to relax, quickly glancing at Ludwig who quirked a brow in distrust at the sudden compliment. "Thank you!"

"Would you know his secret? You see, I admire your father greatly. I too wish to live American Dream," only Matthew, Ludwig, and Kiku seemed to have caught on to the insincerity laced within his words.

"Ah! Yes, he came here as immigrant many years ago, long before I was born, but he made many friends in Italy that helped him here. He stayed with them and made more friends, and they all helped him create the restaurant!"

"Oh, friends?" The corner of the Russian's lip twitched slightly, and the three observant teens communicated with each other silently, trying to figure out what Ivan was getting at.

"Sì, having friends is very important for success," Feliciano stated matter-of-factly. "They support you when you're down, and keep you standing when you're up!" An oblivious smile stretched across his face.

"Interesting...say, Feliciano, would you say you care for your friends very much?"

"Of course! They are very important to me!" The Italian beamed as Ivan merely hummed in approval, gaze flickering to Alfred who was nodding in agreement.

"Hopefully that answer will remain the same, da?" He smiled, though once again, it lacked genuineness.

"H-huh?" Feliciano glanced at the blue-eyed German who's stern look implied they were going to have a serious talk later.

Turning a blind eye to the tension, as per usual, Alfred immediately recaptured Ivan's attention by starting a conversation with him. Matthew furrowed his brows, it was _strange_ seeing them talk as though they'd been friends forever - the Russian just knew how to listen to the younger teen babble, nodding when appropriate, a question here and there. If the golden-blond went to talk to someone else or tried to ask questions about the Russian, he knew exactly what to say to keep his focus or maneuver the conversation into a more favorable topic. To say that last part didn't strike a red flag for the more aware twin was a lie, but it's not like Alfred would listen to him if he voiced his concern.

He shook his head, scolding himself for fretting over his brother way more than necessary. Alfred was strong enough to take care of himself, he didn't need to be fussed over like when they were children, where Matthew would attempt to be the little angel on his shoulder telling him not to do something stupid like eat dirt while his twin acted in spite and did it anyway. Actually, he took that back, things never did change...

Letting out a heavy sigh, he realized his brother really would be the death of him.

.oOo.

"You live your entire life in that phone of yours," Alfred looked up from his phone to see his mother smiling at him with an amused expression on her face as she sat behind her laptop. She adjusted her glasses before skimming through another one of her student's assignments, rubbing her chin in concentration as she stroked one of their two cats, Maple, in her lap.

"You are literally saying that to me as you work on your computer, _mother_," he narrowed his eyes teasingly at her, her dark blue irises shooting him a quick glance before she let out a small giggle. She leaned back in her chair, pushing her long, wavy blond hair back with her fingers.

"Your aunt Marianne wants to know how her son is doing," she commented.

"Oh, so she actually cares now?" Alfred scoffed, earning him a weak glare from his mother. "Francis is doing fine. Don't you see him at all during work? You could ask him yourself," he raised a brow, considering how the university his mother taught English and French Literature at was the same one his cousin studied the arts.

"We have busy schedules, love," his mother paused her grading to send her older half-sister a quick text. "You probably see him more at your school than I do at mine."

"You both literally live on-campus though," he countered. His mother was a very busy woman with a hectic schedule, and therefore would live in one of the Residential Halls for most of the year, as the commute proved to be too exhausting and unreliable when she first started out.

Madeline chuckled, using a hand to pick up her cup of tea and take a sip. "Actually, he's been living with Jeanne this semester in an apartment nearby her campus _and_ your school. Remember? Also, I have my curriculum, and he has his Master's to work on. Life in the city isn't as slow as it is here, Alfie. That's why we bought this place, so I wouldn't lose my mind."

"Oh, right, I forgot he did say that," Alfred laughed. "And _sure_, that's the real reason why."

The Canadian woman nodded gently before her eyes focused on her eldest son who was pacing outside the dining room. "Matthew, you alright?"

"Mum, have you seen my hockey sticks? Or my skates? They weren't in the attic or garage."

"It's '_mom'_..." Alfred corrected with a cheeky grin as his twin shot him an annoyed glare.

Madeline rubbed her temple. "I may have put them in the basement...Shoot, I think they're with the Christmas stuff…Sorry, honey."

Matthew let out a defeated sigh, "No, it's alright. I'll just go get dad to help me…" he turned and left, and their mother gave Alfred a toothy smile that perfectly conveyed the phrase 'whoopsie!'

They conversed for another thirty minutes or so, ample time for the teen to decide he was done digesting his pancakes before he took their dirty dishes to the kitchen and placed them into the dishwasher. When he finished, he went upstairs to his bedroom and threw himself onto the bed, ignoring his cat Hero who regarded him with a glare before leaving him alone to decide what to do for the rest of the day. Play video games? Binge-watch an entire tv series? Get his fill of some new horror movies before Halloween? But it was Sunday and his mom was using her three day weekend to catch up on work, his dad who was back home for a small break was just as bad as he was when it came to horror, and Matthew was...well, to put it lightly, he slept like a rock, usually mid-way through the movie. In the case of any ghost attack, he was certain his twin would just sleep through the whole thing as the spirits did their way with him.

He could always text Kiku, but he remembered that the teen had gone to Comic-Con with a cousin of his. Damn, he wished he'd been invited, but his friend was only going because said cousin had won exactly two tickets, and it was way too late for the American to buy any. Maybe next year. There was Feliciano and Ludwig, but at the same time not really as he didn't even know what they'd talk about or do if they came over...

With goosebumps suddenly appearing on his arm and realizing that his room was too chilly, he pushed himself off the bed to check on the thermostat in the hall. It was 75. Confused, he went back to his room to see why it was much colder that the rest of the house. This wasn't Canada! Maybe mother and his twin could tolerate the chill, but he had his father's Californian blood in him. He was made for warmer weather, not this! Nevermind the fact he lived in New York all his life. Approaching one of his windows, specifically, the one with a maple tree partially obscuring his view, he rested his hands on the sill and found himself looking out. When they first moved in, he recalled the tree being restricted to only Matthew's side of their Jack-and-Jill suite, but now it was slowly passing onto his territory. Not that he minded, there were a couple of branches that made it the perfect secret exit he always wanted if he were ever in a predicament where he had to sneak out. Feeling a cool draft and pulling away, his theory was proven to be correct.

With a scowl, he pushed the window down firmly so no more cold air could enter. Seriously? He thought he told his mother to stop opening his bedroom window to let in fresh air, and if she did, to at _least_ make sure it was sealed tight afterwards. It was 54 degrees outside! He didn't care if she was blessed with the skin of a polar bear, he wasn't and this was his room! She hadn't even bothered to put the screen down, which meant bugs totally could've gotten in. If this ended up like last summer when he woke up to a wasp resting 3 inches away from his face, he was gonna lose his shit. He needed a sweater to deal with this nonsense, at least until the room warmed back up, though he briefly wondered where she found the time to come in when he slept comfortably all night. There wasn't any point he could recall her coming upstairs, but he did take his morning shower and then briefly went to the bathroom after breakfast, so she had her opportunities. With a low growl, he went toward his walk-in closet, hand on the doorknob-

A wave of nostalgia hit him as he imagined a valley waiting for him on the other side, a nice sun beating down on him, rows of wildflowers with bunnies hopping in between. Ever since he was four-years-old, his closet was like the rabbit hole for Alice or the wardrobe in Narnia: a gateway to another world. There had been the voice that called itself Deus, which claimed it had full control over the world. It referred to the bunnies as 'data,' said it made them that way because he knew he liked them, which was true, he did go through that phase for a while. It made him an alien friend he called Tony, a whale he named Whaley. The adventures he had in the Cathedral of Causality resulted in some of the best memories of his life, and despite it all being in his imagination, everything had felt so _real _the entire time.

After a bit of more thought, he remembered one rabbit in particular, the one with the thick, fluffy brows and emerald green eyes. He caught it withering in pain, being deconstructed by the voice, and he begged for Deus to spare the poor thing. In its gratitude, it talked to him, told him stories, comforted him when he was sad. They'd have tea parties and Alfred recalled how it spoke with a posh accent...unlike reality, he never felt lonely when he was in that world, but when he opened the door it was nothing but a closet filled with clothes.

"_I'm sorry, but I can't come here anymore…" _

That had been almost four years ago now, he thought with a shake of his head before focusing on the present. His hands brushed against the hangers, looking for a nice sweater he could use to keep warm until the temperature went back to normal. He picked out his bomber jacket and put it on, hugging himself as he got back into bed and buried himself under the covers. Bringing up his phone to update his journal, he paused when he saw a notification from Ivan, simply asking how he was. Smiling, he wondered if it was time to officially bump up their friendship to the next level and invite him over to hang out. Mattie wouldn't be pleased, but his twin sometimes invited Carlos over without his consent so this just made them even.

**Alfred: You busy today?**

A message popped up in a grey speech bubble below his green.

**Ivan: No, why?**

That was a fast response for an outdated flip phone, he noted before sending a follow-up text.

**Alfred: Just bored...wanna hang out?**

**Ivan: Of course! I would love to! ^o^**

Alfred chuckled a bit at that, almost wishing they could send each other actual emojis.

**Alfred: Cool u wanna come over or I go there?**

**Alfred: Or we could meet up somewhere idc**

**Ivan: I will go there. It's better. **

**Alfred: Ok cool!**

He sat up in his bed, excited. This was actually happening, someone other than Kiku (excluding his brother and Francis for obvious reasons) was coming over to spend time with him. Matthew always had Carlos, who hated him, and Tim Maes, who he was pretty sure was a stoner. Now he had two actual friends to hang out with too.

**Ivan: See you soon!**

He replied with another smiley emoticon before stuffing his phone into his pocket, rushing toward his mirror and making sure he was presentable. It wasn't like he was going out or anything, so he figured his blue, plaid sweatpants and Captain America t-shirt were good enough. The rest of the house was warm, so he took off his bomber jacket and placed it on his desk chair, figuring he would be wearing it more now that it was colder outside.

He heard the doorbell ring and his eyes widened in surprise. _Already_? One step into the hall and his father was already calling out his name. Hustling to the balcony, his head cocked to the side as he saw two individuals converse in the foyer down below. In a flash, he was already down the stairs, his socks gliding across the wooden floor to meet the others.

"You got here fast," he grinned at Ivan as he came to a stop. "Ya live nearby or something?"

"I was taking walk on bike path. Is very peaceful." Did he meant the one that went through the woods at the end of his yard? The very same path they walked on a few weeks ago to clean out Ivan's wounds? _Peaceful_? He was for sure that would've been traumatic, considering how the poor guy was bleeding all over it.

"So, Al," his father began as he propped his out-of-season sunglasses on top of his auburn hair. "Care to introduce me to your friend?" His brown eyes flickered between the two teens.

"Oh, right," he turned to his dad and gestured to Ivan. "Dad, this is Ivan. Ivan this is...uh-"

"Allen Jones," the man held out a tan arm that the taller teen grasped and shook gently. "You can just call me Allen, especially since Al is taken by this one here," his head nodded toward his son before they let go.

The blond teenager rested a hand on his hip. "You old man, no one shakes hands anymore," he shook his head in disappointment.

"Of course, silly me. How dare I be polite? I'll try not to embarrass you next time, _sport_."

"Alright, we're done here," he gestured for the Russian to follow him and led him to the living room, signaling for him to take a seat. "Um, you want anything to drink?"

Ivan sat himself on the comfy leather, "I am good, spasibo."

The American sat himself beside the other, propping his feet on the ottoman as he tried to think of something else to say. Normally when Kiku came over they would just play games or watch TV, but he didn't know if Ivan was interested in those things. What did the Russian even like anyway? Ivan never talked about himself, and when Alfred tried to pry, he'd always distract him...and it didn't help that last time he was here he was sobbing and bleeding after having a crisis then left on his own before they could take a breather.

THUMP.

"Fuck!" His eyes shot wide when he heard his father curse, an amused expression on his face.

"Dad! Stop trying to carry everything by yourself!"

"I got this, hold on-"

He chuckled upon seeing the Russian's concerned expression. "Mattie's trying to get his hockey stuff out of the basement," he explained, and the other nodded with a gentle smile. "So...is there anything you want to do in particular?"

Ivan paused, tapping his cheek thoughtfully as he stared at the ceiling. "Ah," his violet eyes focused on him with a strange twinkle in them. "Halloween is nearing, da? I think we should get in mood, wouldn't you agree, Fedya?"

Alfred stared at him blankly before an incredulous laugh escaped him. "Wow, it's like you've known me for a million years. You sure we're not soulmates or something?"

He cocked to his head to the side as a joyful smile stretched across his lips, his violet eyes closing by how wide it was. "Who knows? Maybe we are!"

The younger teen grinned in amusement as he pushed himself off the couch. "C'mon, I'll show you to my room. I prefer watching things in there." He liked his privacy when watching horror films, it lessened the chances of Mattie and his mother laughing at him.

"Alfie," Madeline cooed from the other room. He went back into the dining room, seeing his mother in the same spot as before while Matthew and Allen both went through a plastic tote on the table, pulling out various things like a helmet, gloves, skates…"Who's this friend your father mentioned? I want to meet him!"

Alfred was about to respond, only for Ivan to appear beside him, giving the woman a shy, but friendly wave as he introduced himself in his usual sweet tone. "Hello! My name is Ivan Braginsky, pleasure to meet you!"

"So polite," his mother commented with a smile. "Call me Madeline, if you need anything just let me know!"

Ivan nodded graciously, "Thank you."

Matthew merely stared in silent horror at the Russian student as his father waved them off.

Alfred led Ivan to his room, thankfully warm, just the way he liked it. Spreading his arms as he presented it to the other, he smirked as he watched for Ivan's reaction. "Behold, my sleeping quarters."

It was a good sized room, with three large windows that brought in a lot of natural light, his queen-sized bed tucked into a corner. Across from that was his tv stand, his movie and game collection displayed in large cabinets beside it. Nearby the doorway there was a desk and computer - a small office space with some books and notes sprawled in a messy pile. On the other wall were two other doors for his closet and shared bathroom, a bookshelf and posters...so many posters. In fact, there were clues to his interests all around the room, action figures of his favorite characters, maps of fictional worlds, a couple of cool decorations he got when pre-ordering collective editions for some games. It was a fanboy's haven.

Then Ivan's gaze went up and he flushed in embarrassment. _Right_. The glow-in-the-dark stars he and his dad put up when he was ten...it had been a personal project for them, a long and tedious bonding activity.

"Ah, the star-crossed lovers," Ivan smiled as he nodded toward the stars.

"Oh, Vega and Altair?" He walked into the room and plopped himself onto his bed without tearing his gaze away from the ceiling.

"I only know because a friend told me before, it is the Lyra constellation, da?" He looked around some more. "Ursa Major, the Great Bear, or for some the Big Dipper."

A friend? So Ivan wasn't a complete loner, good to know in case he had to reassure Matthew once again. "Yeah, Kiku told me all about Tanabata and stuff, he noticed it right away after I showed this to him," Alfred grinned in amusement. "I didn't know you were into astronomy."

"Is fun hobby of mine," he responded simply.

Once more that day, Alfred briefly wondered if God had personally sent Ivan down to him. He blinked in surprise as he noticed the other was still standing in the center of his room. "Oh, you can sit on my bed, I don't mind. You can also pull out that chai-" Ivan immediately seated himself beside the other as soon as the suggestion came out of his mouth, startling him for a moment by how smooth the motion was. An amused laugh escaped him when he recovered, seeing Ivan's innocent face quirk into one of confusion. He shook his head with a smile as he pushed himself off the edge of the bed toward his TV stand and began to set up for their marathon.

"Do you have a preference or…" he said aloud as he used the remote to the browse through the selection he had available for streaming.

"I do not mind. You choose."

Alfred looked through his options, deciding to go with the one that had a cover he deemed harmless enough. Past experience told him this wasn't an accurate method for determining how scary a movie would be, but whatever. Fool me a million times, right? He selected the video and crawled onto his bed to the side pressed against the wall then checked on his guest, only to see that Ivan was relaxed on the edge with his boots off, eyes focused on him with a strange gaze he couldn't place.

"Do you wanna take off your coat? You can just hang it on the post," he watched as Ivan slung it off his shoulders and followed through with his suggestion before bringing up the covers, the screen dimming as a darker mood was set.

Four movies in, Ivan was quite pleased when the American pressed his face into his shoulder, hooking their arms together as he held a pillow up as a shield. "Ahhh, tell me when it's over!" the Russian let out a laugh at that. At some point Allen had come in to give them slices of pizza for dinner and some drinks, it wasn't until then they noticed it was dark outside. They opted to watch one more movie before calling it a night, which led to the current situation at hand.

The credits were displayed on the screen after ten minutes and Alfred was finally able to drop his pillow, as well as attempt to calm his shaking hands. "I fucking hate foreign horror films! They never have a happy ending!"

"You are fond of those," Ivan agreed with a melancholic gleam in his eyes, his voice almost a whisper.

"Now, I'll never get to sleep!" Alfred let out a groan as he rested his head on the cushioning behind him.

"I believe you will manage," Ivan sent him a reassuring smile. "I best be going, da? Is late."

"Wait, it's too dangerous to go out now!" Blue eyes widened as he sat up. "It's like 9 o'clock! You should ask your parents if you can spend the night. It's Columbus day weekend, so it should be fine, right? And I have a parade tomorrow, so we can bring you back first thing in the morning if- "

"I will be fine, Fedya. But if you insist, I will send message, okay?"

"Yes, you should do that. Like right now," he stated firmly.

A sly grin on his face, Ivan pulled out his flip phone and began typing. When done, he snapped his phone shut and looked at the other sweetly. "There, I will spend night with you."

"Good," Alfred crawled over the other to get off the bed, not noticing how the Russian's breath hitched for a moment as his face went pink. "I'll go get you some clothes, dad might have something that fits you 'cause you're both got those broad shoulders. I think I have a spare toothbrush and stuff too, be right back."

"D-da…" he spluttered, attempting to keep his cool as the other hopped off the bed and left the room. After a moment, Ivan opened his phone again and began typing into a journal with a fond expression on his face, musing to himself about whether the other was aware they had more in common than he thought even _now_.

After all, he had a few little secrets of his own.

.oOo.

The scene was met with police cars and sirens, the flash of a red and blue lights constantly illuminating the otherwise dark alley. Leather shoes clanked against the cement beneath them, alerting the other officers of their superior's entrance.

Captain Zwingli stared at the corpse before him, a young woman in her early 20s, very beautiful, save for the ugly, vicious gash that tore through her body - flesh just hacked into like an axe would a tree. A pool of crimson surrounded her meaning that if the cut hadn't killed her, the blood loss certainly had.

"No trace of anyone, sir," one of the detectives in his division reported, and he shook his head in frustration.

"It's not like they could just disappear out of thin air," his green eyes narrowed at the other. "There's always something," he slipped on his gloves and bent under the yellow tape to approach the body, kneeling beside it and giving a few light touches to examine its state.

The death was recent, he estimated it had happened only a couple of hours prior. It was entering the phase of rigor mortis, as evident by the increasing stiffness. The blood splatters weren't clean, there was hints of a spray, which meant the person had dove their weapon right into a vital artery. Whoever did this must've had some sort of vendetta - judging by how deep the cut went, the woman would've died on impact. This wasn't a clean kill, no, this was fueled by something much more twisted.

He picked up her discarded purse, rummaging through it and taking out its contents as he searched for something of interest. His gaze gleamed when they picked up a clean, folded napkin, a number written on it with blue ink. A rare grin curved his lip as he pulled out a phone of his own.

There was his lead.

* * *

_A/N: __So yeah, Alfred is the oblivious, emotional guy whereas Matthew is more perceptive, rational and overprotective. They each have their own perspective to the Ivan situation, so neither side is entirely wrong nor entirely right...just keep reading to find out the truth. _

_In this fic, Allen Jones (2p!America) is half-Latino and half-German. The German is because I know it says in canon that America mingled with Germanic blood, plus he needs those recessive genes to be the blue-eyed, blond he is. The latino is because here Allen basically represents when parts of America were a part of Spain and later Mexico, so his family would've basically been there since it became a colony. Meanwhile, Madeline Williams (Nyo!Canada) is half-French and half-English, with her older half-sister Marianne Bonnefoy (Nyo!France) obviously being from, you guessed it, France._

_Fun fact: The stars in Alfred's room are the night sky for July, his birthday month._

_Btw, Mirai Nikki translates to __**Future Diary **__for those who don't know, so Alfred's fixation with his phone is important for those who are unaware. And the part with his imagination is CRUCIAL to this fic. I did say it was heavily inspired by the anime/manga. _

_And in case I need to remind people, this is a __**DARK**_ _fic, even though things are all happy and cheerful right now, don't let this deceive you as things only get worse from here. _


	3. Calm Before the Storm

_A/N: Just more foreshadow and development here. TFW you have a chapter like 80% completed for weeks but you struggle to write just ONE section of it so the whole thing gets pushed back. So sorry, my dudes._

* * *

**Chapter 3: Calm Before the Storm**

Sipping on the straw of his coke, Alfred's blue eyes observed the amiable chatter bouncing back and forth amongst the large group within the fancy Italian restaurant: _Il Veneziano_. Prided on its quality, as evident by the price assigned to each meal, Alfred admitted that the food was pretty tasty, though he probably would've been just as content to eat at an _Olive Garden_… however, then he wouldn't be given that judgmental, yet relenting sigh from Lovino when the other placed down butter for his bread rather than olive oil.

"How domestic," Francis purred with a teasing smirk on his face as said Italian returned to personally deliver their meals.

Gilbert snickered. "You'd make an excellent wife," he noted with a flirty edge to his tone, only for Lovino to glare at them both weakly.

"Assholes…" he muttered under his breath as he returned to his work, resulting in the two adults eyes' widening as they sent each other a surprised glance. Normally the younger adult would have a more passionate response, such as yelling at them, threatening to feed their meals to the rats whilst making them pay for it. The impassive dismissal was unusual for Lovino, it worried the two who knew him well.

"Alfredo, I made your meal myself so you better enjoy it," the Italian warned sternly as he placed a plate in front of the teen. The golden-blond brightened upon seeing an extra cheesy pasta dish covered with bacon bits.

"Thank you, Lovi!" He sent the other a toothy smile.

Lovino blinked, averting his gaze as he attempted to fight off his blush. "S-shut up, brat! I expect a damn good tip!" He huffed before turning away while the adults watched with intrigued eyes.

"What?" Alfred noticed the focus on him. "He always does this."

"_Always_?" His French cousin pressed with a raised brow.

The American teen nodded as he twirled his fork into his food and took a bite, preferring to enjoy his meal rather than be part of a conversation he held little regard for.

"It's so sweet of Lovi, he always tells the chef he'll make your meal himself since he knows how you like it," Feliciano clapped with joy. "Sometimes when we have leftovers he tells me to give them to Alfred for lunch!"

"Oh, Alfred, you're such a charmer," Francis praised. "I knew I raised you well."

Gilbert's crimson eyes rested on the American's dish with a distasteful scowl. "So, are we just going to ignore the bacon overwhelming his pasta?"

"Hey!"

"Non, we are simply choosing not to acknowledge it," the Frenchman answered with a firm nod.

Matthew turned to Feliciano with a concerned expression. "Is everything alright with your brother? He just seemed kind of, well, under the weather."

"Hai, I noticed something as well…" Kiku added gently, watching as the waiter jotted down someone's order, his hazel eyes clouded, distracted by something else.

"Eh? Well, the police did call him the other day, and then an officer came to speak with him...but he wasn't in trouble or anything! He just wanted to ask him some questions."

Ludwig raised a brow. "Do you know why?"

"Ah, I think it had to do with a girl?"

"Warten…" Gilbert set his fork down on his plate and leaned back in his chair, eyes squinting in thought. "You don't think this would have anything to do with that girl who was murdered?" He turned to Francis. "You know, the one from the university Jeanne and I go to? She was killed not too far away from here."

"Oh, was that what that was? They did mention something about a homicide in the news," Matthew added before whipping his head in alarm when he heard his twin choke on his drink.

"Wait, a girl was murdered nearby?" Alfred managed between coughs, eyes wide with shock. Gilbert, Francis, and Matthew all nodded solemnly as Feliciano covered his mouth in horror, with Ludwig patting him on the back comfortingly. Kiku sat in a polite silence with his head bowed down, observing as his best friend pulled out his phone and typed a new entry in his lap.

"Oh no, poor Lovi! I didn't know!" Feliciano lamented, now understanding his brother's recent change in behavior.

"Wait, so how do you know all this? There's barely anything mentioned about it yet," Matthew frowned as he stared at the albino.

"You forget mein vater used to be an officer," he smirked at the twin, who mouthed 'ohhh' with a slow nod as he remembered that important little fact. "His old co-workers like to keep him updated."

"Now all the retired police dogs make sense," Alfred teased wryly, clicking his tongue as Matthew rolled his eyes dramatically despite his smirk.

The door opened, followed by a distant, cheerful chant. "Buenas, buenas!" Francis and Gilbert immediately turned their heads to the familiar voice, smiling pleasantly upon recognizing the other.

"If it isn't mon amie, Antonio," Francis drawled seductively, attracting the attention of the Spaniard.

"What? You still live here?" Gilbert laughed as footsteps approached the table. "I thought you went back to Spain for your studies! Why did you not tell me you were back? I would have taken you out for a drink!"

"Oh, did I forget to tell you that our dear friend got a job at our old high school?"

"Well, yeah! Am I seriously the only one who didn't know?"

"Ah, perdoname, chicos," Alfred jumped in surprise after hearing the response, tearing his gaze away from Ivan's text to confirm his suspicions. Mr. Fernandez was friends with his cousin? He'd seen them talk a few times, sure, but that was just a thing teachers _did_. It never occurred to him they were actually childhood friends. "Just getting my usual lunch," he smiled at the party, though his green eyes widened when he noticed his student. "Alfredo?"

"H-hi, Mr. Fernandez…" It really was the most awkward thing ever when you saw your teacher out of school. Francis was the exception, as he was technically just a student himself and they were family.

"You two know each other?" Francis' eyes darted to his younger cousin before back to his friend.

"Of course, he's in my class. One of my best pupils," he beamed with a smile, and Alfred flushed as Francis reached over to pinch his cheek affectionately, though he turned his head to slip out of his reach.

"Is he your brother?" Antonio asked. "He looks very much like you!"

"No, my cousin, but he might as well be." Francis nodded toward Matthew, "Likewise for mon Mathieu."

"Oh, I didn't know you had a brother, Alfred. Your colorings are different, but your faces are exactly the same!" He said in surprise as he compared the two.

"They are twins," Francis stated proudly. "Though Mathieu got most of his features from his mother's side, a canadien, while Alfred from his papa's. They are precious, non?" The twins exchanged a blank look with each other before rolling their eyes in perfect sync. A couple of their companions chuckled in amusement while a few others raised impressed brows.

"Si, si. They're quite adorable, I'm sorry for doubting their existence all those years ago," Antonio patted the Frenchman's shoulder apologetically.

"Actually, if you really wanted to apologize, you could buy me a bottle of-"

"Y-you! Bastard, what are _you_ doing here?" Lovino narrowed his eyes upon seeing the Spaniard, his body trembling with anger as he attempted to restrain himself from beating the shit out of the other with the plate of dessert in his hand. _For the family business_, he mentally chanted in order to calm himself. It's what papa always said.

"Es mi restaurante favorita. Of course I come, Lovi!" Antonio cheered, and the teenagers all gave each other confused glances and shrugged before looking back at the scene.

"Stalker!" The Italian accused, glaring at the man who smiled at him innocently. "How many times do I have to tell you to stop coming here!"

"You don't mean that..." The Spanish man said with a pout, watching as the Italian placed the zeppole and chocolate sauce in front of his student.

"Oh, I didn't order this," Alfred turned to Lovino with an unsure smile, only to be met with an annoyed huff.

"It's on the house," he scowled and crossed his arms, though that didn't hide his reddening cheeks. "You can share if you want...but if you don't want it, I'll throw it into the trash!" Lovino was clearly offended by him questioning the free food, and Matthew shot him a bewildered look as he wondered if his twin was _actually_ passing up on desserts. The world was ending!

"No, no! They look delicious! Thanks," the blond smiled at the other as he picked up the fried dough and dipped it into chocolate before taking a bite, letting out a satisfied moan as it pleased his taste buds. Damn, what was with him and fried foods? Lovino merely stared at him blankly for a moment before quickly excusing himself from the group, darting toward the kitchen with the door slamming behind him.

"Ok, so share," Matthew turned and gestured for him to move his plate closer.

"But they're miiine," he whined light-heartedly, already pushing the plate toward the center of the table. He glanced up and saw his teacher with a brooding expression on his face, as if studying him in a new light. It was actually extremely unsettling, but he didn't know how to react other than just ignoring it. "Um, Mr. Fernandez, would you like one too?" There we go, food was always a good way to distract people.

"Hm?" Score one for Alfred. "Ah, no gracias," he smiled and shook his head. "I actually should go seat myself elsewhere so I may do my work in peace."

Francis hummed in agreement, "I understand the feeling all too well, mon amie," he gave the other a flamboyant wave. "We can talk more later~!"

"Hey, zimtzicke! Call me sometime!" Gilbert cackled, lifting his drink enthusiastically as Antonio waved him off with a smirk. They enjoyed the rest of the meal in blissful ignorance from the discreet glares being sent their way, obscured by the crowds within the dimly-lit room.

.oOo.

"We should just leave and go to Fright Fest," Alfred grinned at his brother who parked the car in the school's lot, only to be met with a weak glare. "C'mon, it's Halloween. It'll be fun!"

"Okay, first off, today is a school day, and we're not bailing so you can spend the day at an amusement park," the older twin sucked in a heavy breath as he turned off the engine. "Secondly, you will _never_ be able to convince me to drive in New Jersey again."

"Then I'll drive," Matthew sent him a doubtful look. "What?"

"See, you _say_ that, but you and I both know you're still traumatized by that guy who ran a red-light over a year ago," he sent his younger twin an annoyed glance before undoing his seatbelt and exiting his side. "Once we leave town, you'll find some bullshit excuse to have me take the wheel."

"Because the Grim Reaper totally has it out for me, Mattie!" Alfred hissed as he shot out of the passenger's side, the bag on his lap being swung onto his back in a fluid, well-practiced motion. "If the wheel didn't spazz out, dad and I totally could've died!"

"What? You think Death's trying to collect the debt of you not staying dead when you were born?" Matthew paused, eyeing his brother pensively over the car's roof before reaching into the backseat for his book bag. "Have you been watching _Final Destination_?" He said as he slung a strap over his shoulder after shutting the door.

Alfred flushed. "Maybe! Shut up!"

"That's all fiction, Alfie. You're just insanely lucky, or who knows, maybe you have a guardian angel?" Matthew suggested with a shrug as he caught up to his brother. "Seems to me that something's going out of their way to protect you, so stop torturing yourself with horror movies."

"Y-yeah...actually yeah! Maybe you're right," he nodded enthusiastically, gaining confidence as they walked toward the school. "What if I'm like Domino and luck is my superpower!" His blue eyes brightened as he turned to his sibling.

A snort was his reply. "Sure," but then Matthew pinched his cheek and cooed. "Or maybe you're just mummy's little miracle from God, eh?"

Swatting the hand away, Alfred snickered. "You're just mad I keep ruining your chances of being an only child."

"Nope, because of you I can do whatever I want and get away with it," he bragged with his head held high as they approached the front entrance.

"True, mom would kill me if she caught me with booze- _Wait_! You little shit, I see your game now," he stared at his twin incredulously. "Seriously?"

"Damn, it only took you 17 years to catch on," the older twin sighed sadly as he opened the door to the building, politely letting his brother in first, before heading toward the band room to check and see if they had orchestra, only to find Edelstein, Mei, and Emma discussing the preparations for their final competition.

"Ah, Matthew, you're here. Good. We need to make some arrangements," Edelstein beckoned for him to come over as Emma and Mei smiled and waved at the twins.

"Yeah, sure thing," Matthew said with a nod as he approached them while Alfred waved back to the girls.

"See ya later then," he grinned as he turned the doorknob and made his way back into the hall, sighing in annoyance once the door was shut. Great, so no orchestra. That meant he had 45 minutes to do nothing when he could've been home watching TV or something. His options were to wait in the common area and watch as students slowly trickled in, or wander the halls until some teacher caught him and forced him to go back. If he could find Francis before that time, he'd be safe, but he wasn't even sure if his cousin was there yet.

It sucked having Halloween in the middle of the week, in his opinion, they should just have the day off. And now his neighborhood had a curfew until their local killer was caught, considering the authorities weren't sure if it was a one-time homicide or not, so that ruined any chances of Trick-or-Treating since everything would have to be wrapped up by 8 o'clock. There was Kyle's party he'd been invited to, but after getting tipsy at the one last year and suffering many consequences for it (ie. getting mixed up in someone else's affair and all the drama that entailed, his mom finding out and losing it even though Mattie got high with Tim and she didn't bat an eye), he decided that those crowded high school parties just weren't his thing, nor were hookups, and underage drinking just caused more problems than it was worth. Been there done that, he'd rather just spend the day at a festival or drag Kiku and Mattie to check out the decorations some houses displayed, maybe enter a haunted house if they found one.

"Fedya!" Suddenly noticing Ivan beside him, he jumped in surprise.

"Holy shit, you scared me," Alfred giggled as he let himself relax. "What're you doing here so early?" It wasn't like the other was a part of any extracurriculars or had to ride the bus, the younger teen knew very well that Ivan had a car of his own.

Revealing what was hidden behind his back, the Russian presented him with a beautiful bouquet of red roses and small sunflowers, wrapped in green decorative paper and a bright gold ribbon, his favorite candies sticking out of the flora. "For you!"

His blue eyes widened as a heavy blush bloomed in his cheeks. "Oh, Iv, you shouldn't have…"

"Of course I must," Ivan said with a firm nod and smile while he placed the gift into Alfred's arms.

"T-thank you," Alfred chewed on his lip as he stared at the bouquet, filled with conflicted feelings. On one hand, the romantic in him was swooning, wondering if this was supposed to be a confession. If that were true, he wouldn't know how to respond, as he didn't reciprocate those feelings yet. It only added to his guilt, as the other went through all the extra effort to get him such an amazing gift, and he had nothing in return. "Hey, Ivan, I-"

"Do not worry over it, just being in your company is enough for me," Ivan assured him gently, as though sensing his distress. Responding with a grateful smile, he wondered how the sweet guy in front of him was the same one who injured Kevin - they were almost like two completely different people. "Hmmm," he raised a brow at Ivan, who's violet eyes seemed to be gleaming with something he couldn't quite decipher. "Is such a shame we're stuck in school for holiday," he commented with a soft sigh.

"I know right?" Alfred agreed. "I tried to convince Mattie to ditch school and take me somewhere, but like the buzzkill he is, he refused!"

"Is it too late to go?" Ivan asked with a smirk, eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Um, well, if we left now we could probably beat any traffic and…" he paused, realization hitting him as an excited grin spread across his face. "Are you saying you're interested in cutting?"

Nodding, the Russian beamed, clearly excited by the idea. "It would be a fun trip, da?"

"Well, if you _insist_."

.oOo.

Coney Island had been a good compromise, Alfred mentally praised himself as he tore a piece of the funnel cake off the plate on Ivan's lap and plopped it into his mouth, humming in delight as he savored its sugary, fried flavor. It was cold and windy, he could smell the salt from the Atlantic in the air, but the ocean was beautiful - especially now that the beach was empty save for the few kids playing in the sand and couples taking an afternoon stroll. The boardwalk wasn't too far from home, so he didn't feel overly guilty having Ivan drive. Fortunately it had a decent collection of rides and activities so the trip felt worth it. Pulling out his phone, he made sure to update his journal before checking out the many concerned texts from Kiku and his twin.

He let out a chuckle when his brother threatened he would be in so much trouble when he got home. _Whatever_, he wasn't a child and it wasn't like his own twin could ground him or anything, though telling mom would be such a low blow. No, Mattie knew better than to do that, as that would only make her freak out. Honestly, the worst-case scenario would be a few hours of passive-aggressive comments, which at this point in life he knew how to ignore.

"Are you enjoying your day?" Ivan cocked his head to the side as he observed Alfred blink up from his screen.

"Hell yeah, though I should be asking you that question," the American teen grinned back as he stored his phone away. "It's your first time at an amusement park after all," he reached across to tear off another piece of their treat, getting melted whipped cream and chocolate syrup all over his fingers.

"Yes, I am enjoying every second," he smiled, reminiscing when Alfred had agreed to hold his hand during the various rides, or how he jumped into his arms when they went through the haunted maze. Today proved to be a very fun day, indeed.

"Dude, are you gonna eat any of this? I got it for the both of us," he gestured toward the plate before taking another bite.

"Ah, sorry. It is just very messy…" Violet eyes lingered on Alfred as he licked the sugar and sauce off his palm, a faint blush on pale cheeks.

"You baby," the American rolled his eyes dramatically, hands already reaching for more with the inability to resist until he felt a strong grip snatch his wrist. Frozen in shock and wide-eyed, he watched as Ivan brought his hand to his lips, a pink tongue creeping out and slowly twirling around his fingers in a way that made him feel warm and squirm uncomfortably.

He pulled away quickly once he got his bearings, a look of disgust marring his features. "Dude, what the _fuck_? Ew!" The action felt so sexual and _aggressive_...had he just been violated? Wiping his hand on his jeans, he shot Ivan a scowl that demanded answers.

The Russian smiled innocently. "Sorry! It was such a sweet taste, I could not resist!"

Cheeks flushed, Alfred grumbled under his breath as he distanced himself from the other, conflicted feelings arising in him once again. Ivan was attractive, like _very_ attractive, to say the attention wasn't flattering was a complete lie. There was definitely chemistry between them, and it was becoming very clear to him that the Russian wanted to pursue him in a way that was beyond friendship.

But how did _he_ feel? To be honest, he wasn't sure. Maybe it was just Matthew casting doubt into his head, but something felt off, he just couldn't explain it.

As if sensing his thoughts, Ivan sent him a contemplative look before quickly replacing it with a smile. "Solnyshko?" Alfred turned his head to the other, noticing he was pointing to the ferris wheel. "I want to go on that one last, is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine," he answered with a heavy sigh.

They stood and made their way to the ride, munching on the remains of their dessert before discarding the plastic plate into the nearest trash can. The line was short, so they were whisked onto the giant wheel and seated promptly. Alfred was surprised as he looked toward the ocean, realizing that it was dusk and the sky was a radiant gold woven in shades of blue. They'd have to go home right after this, he thought with a pout, remembering the grim reality that awaited them in his hometown.

Eyeing Ivan, he paused, noticing violet eyes were transfixed on him, unblinking, breath caught in his throat. No one ever looked at him like _that_ before...like he was their whole world. He could hear his heart pounding as a deep scarlet burned through his cheeks. Damn, if this was Ivan's attempt at seducing him, it was _working_. "Ivan…?"

"Wouldn't it be perfect if we could stay like this forever?" There was a small smile on his face as his purple eyes gleamed with...sorrow, which perplexed the American teen.

"On the ferris wheel?" he responded rather dumbly, instantly regretting the words as they fell from his lips. Who could blame him? He was flustered.

"It does not matter where, as long as we are together," he stated softly, but with certainty.

"It is nice," Alfred admitted, biting his lip as he averted his gaze toward the amusement park. At this point in his life, he found it unusual for someone to actually enjoy his company for so long, most people would've had enough of him weeks ago. It was refreshing to feel like someone wasn't just _tolerating_ him.

"I am glad I get to spend these moments with you," Ivan hummed in content as he reached over, placing a gloved hand over the one resting on Alfred's knee, entwining their fingers and giving a gentle squeeze. Though tensing, the American found himself accepting the affectionate touch.

Maybe his friendship with Ivan wasn't as selfless and heroic as he once thought. Maybe he needed someone like Ivan just as much as the other seemed to need him.

.oOo.

Jeanne huffed as she filled a thermos with hot cocoa before screwing on its lid and placing it in her designer tote. She glanced at her watch, then toward the hall, only to be disappointed when she heard no approaching footsteps. A wave of frustration overcame her as she made her way to the bathroom and opened the door wide, giving her lover an urgent look. "Francis, are you done yet? We're going to be late!"

"But my hair looks terrible!"

Letting out an amused, tired sigh as she leant against the doorframe, Jeanne shook her head. "It's just another game, mon amour. Besides, you look handsome as always."

Focused on his reflection, Francis combed his blonde hair back with his fingers. "You always say that just to hurry me," he pouted half-heartedly.

"Yes, because you always take forever to get ready," Jeanne rebutted. "The commute is about an hour long, we will barely make it at this rate."

"Sacrebleu!" The Frenchman jolted and rushed out of the bathroom, his girlfriend chuckling as she ducked out of the way and followed him to the front door. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner!" He panicked as he opened the closet and picked a random coat to cover himself with.

"I did! You must've been distracted by something when I told you," she opened the door and pulled out her keys as Francis followed after her, locking the entrance before they both made their way downstairs to the apartment's parking lot. Upon exiting the building, she noticed it was cold enough where she could see her breath, and instantly she knew that the twins would be overjoyed when she presented them with a delicious, hot drink. Winter was coming, she sighed sadly as she unlocked the car and got in on the driver's side, waiting for her love to properly seat himself beside her as she turned on the engine to warm up the car.

Backing out, she tried to determine what the fastest route to the boy's rival high school. Away games were much more of a hassle than home games, but she and Francis tried to make it to as many as they could to cheer the boys on during their half-time performances, especially considering their parent's hectic schedules. She knew they appreciated it too, just by how they beamed whenever they saw a familiar face in the crowd rooting for them, those smiles always made the trip worth it.

"On the way back should we stop by their house and get them _Five Guys_? Or should we wait until the last game?" Francis asked her as she came to a stop at an intersection, her fingers drumming against the wheel.

"We can do _Five Guys_ tonight and think of something more exciting for the boys next time. After this, it's only one more game and then they're done forever, we should make it a celebration," she sighed wistfully.

Shocked, Francis' voice softened. "Mon dieu, they are graduating this year...I almost forgot."

"They're becoming adults. It's hard to believe they've grown so much."

"Oui," he agreed, looking out the window, his expression somber. "I like your plan, let's do that."

Jeanne sent him a small, comforting smile before redirecting her attention to the road, squinting her eyes as she noticed upcoming traffic in the distance. "That's no good, I think they're backed up."

"It is rush hour, but we can take the backroad by the library. It should take us around everything and we'd avoid the highway altogether."

She nodded her head in contemplation, "It'd be a bit of a detour, so we'll miss the first quarter. I'm sure the boys won't mind at all." Putting on her directionals, she changed lanes and turned onto a new street, heading north through their hometown. As they passed the main area, she heard Francis chuckle as he cocked his head toward _Il Veneziano_.

"Did I tell you how Lovino has a crush on Alfred?"

Jeanne raised her brows incredulously. "Really?"

"It would seem so. He was very flustered when we had our group dinner, spoiled our cher petit frère rotten the whole night."

"That's not so hard to believe," she teased. "The boy has your charms."

"The charisma, yes. The awareness, eh?" He made the so-so movement with his hand. "It could always be improved."

Jeanne let out a heavy sigh "We should give the poor kid some slack, especially after what he went through in middle school. Your aunt and Matthew were very scared for him."

Letting out a scoff, Francis shook his head. "He was a child, and children have imagination. He was going through a hard time then, it was only natural he'd retreat to the one place he had control. I think they took everything way too seriously," he vented. "But what's done is done, and he seems to be doing very well all things considered, so what do I know?"

"I don't think it was so much imagination, more so his perception of reality. I do agree with you, and not just because I know you've been in a similar boat, though I think it would benefit Alfred greatly to know someone he trusted was in his corner."

Shrugging, the Frenchman frowned in defeat. "It's a bit too late, I'm sure he's moved on by now. I know I have."

"Very well," pursing her lips, she took a moment to enjoy a peaceful silence as she passed the library and began making her way to the road behind it, delight in her eyes as she saw it was _significantly_ less crowded than the alternative path. "Yes, we should definitely make it with a bit of time to spare!" She announced, turning to Francis, who's eyes were narrowed at the sky. "Mon amour?"

"There are so many vultures," he scowled. Glancing back toward the windshield, now extending her perception from beyond the road, she could see a good dozen of them total, just looming in the trees and circling the sky.

"Perhaps someone hit a deer? I hope they're okay."

Biting his lip anxiously, Francis suddenly had a bad feeling churn his stomach. He hoped it was wrong, he just wanted to see the boys and get them home safely.

It wasn't until shortly after when they crossed a narrow bridge that his heart sank.

"Jeanne, stop! Stop!"

Immediately she pulled over to the shoulder of the road, bewildered and scared, turning to her lover for answers. "What? What is it, is everything okay?"

"On the creek, I saw someone! They looked hurt!"

"The creek?" She glanced toward the bridge for a second before undoing her seatbelt and opening the car door, making her way back to check for herself. After a moment's pause to calm his pounding heart, Francis followed suit, only to be frozen where he stood as he stared down at the water bank, a pale woman with a deep injury in her neck, crimson staining the rocks she rested on, looking as though she had been crawling up the shore before giving in to her wounds.

Without hesitation, Jeanne pulled out her cell phone and dialed 911. "Yes...my boyfriend and I found a woman who's been attacked...I believe she's _dead_."

.oOo.

Alfred shivered as he watched the football players charge toward the other end of the field, a roar from the crowd made him roll his eyes. It wasn't like his school's team was anywhere near winning, maybe had he been selected instead of Carlos during try-outs, he would've been able to change the tides. Unlikely, but it was a fun thought to entertain himself with. His blue gaze observed the other band members as they took their meal break and huddled to each other like penguins, laughing as they shared jokes and simply enjoyed each other's company. He felt a pang of jealousy in his abdomen, frowning as he wondered what prevented him from having a friendship like that. He was seated right beside his best friend Kiku, but the clarinet player was a quiet, reserved person - his complete opposite. Comfortable silences and honest heart-to-hearts were the norm in their relationship, and Alfred was totally content with that, but there were times he found himself longing for affection and a conversation with someone a bit more...responsive.

Was his personality really just too much for most people? In terms of looks, he was aware that many people were physically attracted to him, puberty had been merciful to him after he suffered enough during his 'dorky' phase. In one summer he went from barely a 4 to a perfect 10, and suddenly everyone wanted to date him, which had been extremely overwhelming, especially since a good portion of his admirers had been former bullies. Yet he quickly found out that their interest in him was merely superficial at best, he was nothing but a trophy, a _conquest_. He'd caught plenty of people talking crap about him behind his back, some only moments after flirting with him. Annoying, loud, brash, and attention-whore were among the more common descriptions, he'd learn since to stop trusting a good portion of his peers.

And the ones he actually did get along well with? People like Kyle, Feliciano, Ludwig, Emma, and Mei: he had his fair share of inside jokes and memories with each of them, but sometimes it was blatantly obvious he was only friends with them because they saw each other every day for years. They never really made an effort to hang out with him out of school, they all had their own personal circles he simply wasn't a part of, and that was understandable. He just wished he had a circle of his own, like what Matthew had with Tim and Carlos, and the rest of his hockey squad. Just someone he could tease and laugh with and share the same emotional bond he had with Kiku, the guy deserved a break from him anyway as he had other close friends beside him. It wasn't fair that he was the one who took up a majority of his time just because he had no other friends. And he had to admit it, he could be pretty needy when he was lonely, unfortunately that was more often than not.

Which then brought him to Ivan Braginsky.

"Hey, Al?" He blinked out of his stupor and turned to his twin standing beside him, dressed in his drum major uniform, a color reversal of the grey-and-white he wore himself. "Have you seen Francis and Jeanne? I can't find them anywhere."

"Um," he pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked for any new notifications. "They didn't send anything, maybe they just got busy or something."

"Yeah, maybe...I'll keep an eye out, let me know if you see them or get anything."

"Okie doke," with that said, Matthew sent him a nod before making his way back to Mr. Edelstein and Mei.

With his phone already out, he figured he might as well update it with a new entry, flashing Kiku a bright smile when the other glanced over and caught him in his habit. Respecting his friend's privacy and hobby, Kiku averted his gaze so Alfred knew he wasn't prying. Their unspoken understanding of one another was one of the things the American teen loved most about his best friend.

Glancing up from his screen, he caught sight of a familiar mop of platinum-blond hair in the crowd, talking to an equally familiar blonde. Ivan was smiling politely as he listened intently to a very enthusiastic Emma, both were on their phones as she wore a secretive, mischievous grin. Surprised, Alfred raised a brow. He hadn't known the two were friends, and in a way, he never saw it coming given how different they were from one another. Maybe they shared a class together or something, but as long as the Russian was breaking out of his shell, this was good progress, right?

He then realized they were making their way toward him.

"Oops, I'm taking up all your time. Have fun with your boyfriend, Alfie!" She sent him a quick wave as she sped past him, climbing up the steps to meet up with the rest of her guard members.

"We're not-," he frowned when she disappeared into the crowd. "Boyfriends? Where did she get that from?" Turning to Ivan, he was met with an innocent smile as he shrugged.

"Who knows!"

"What were you guys talking about anyway?" Alright, so he was nosy. He couldn't help that curiosity got the best of him.

"Uh," Ivan's face turned a bright pink. "I-I suppose she assumed we were dating, so she thought I should see the pictures of you...wearing their uniform."

Alfred blinked slowly, a blank smile on his face as he took in this information. Was Ivan referring to what he thought he was? _What_? "Do you mean the band camp pictures?" Alright, so now he'd have to confront Emma on the bus ride back to school.

A slow nod as Ivan's blush grew. "Yes."

"Of course she did," he let out an annoyed chuckle. Not that there was anything wrong with them per se, he looked sexy in them. It's just not many teenage boys liked having pictures of them crossdressing and wearing make-up shared all over social media, or to their newest friend. It was just super embarrassing, and he either got a ton of new admirers and loving compliments or nasty, unwarranted insults from insecure dudebros who valued masculinity. There was never an in-between. Judging by Ivan's blush, he could tell that the other's crush on him had grown exponentially. He wasn't quite sure what to do with this revelation.

"So, news," Alfred's head whipped around to the sound of Matthew's voice, who looked taken aback by Ivan's presence before shaking his head, reminding himself that the Russian always came to their games, apparently even ones that were an hour away from home. "Anyway, Jeanne called. They were on their way to the game, but then they came across a body, and well, naturally they had to report it to the authorities."

"Another murder?" Alfred said incredulously. "Where was this?"

"You know the creek that cuts behind the library, there's that bridge that goes over it," the younger twin nodded as he visualized it. "There."

"Holy shit, that's pretty close to school."

"It's on the other end of town from where that first murder happened," Matthew's brows were drawn anxiously as he mulled over the connection between the two incidents. "Which means that whoever the killer is, they're local."

"It's done by the same guy?"

"Jeanne told me similar wounds, similar target. So it's safe to assume same guy."

Alfred exchanged a look with Ivan, who bit his lip and eyed him with concern. "So that means…"

"There's a serial killer in our neighborhood," Matthew confirmed grimly.

.oOo.

A few days after the game, Emma sighed as she skimmed the menu of _Il Veneziano_, deciding if she should stick to her healthy diet or cheat just this once and indulge herself. So many options, they all looked so much tastier than the standard caesar salad.

A small, awkward cough caught her attention. "W-what can I get you, signora?" She turned, her green eyes noticing her waiter. Huh? She knew him from somewhere. Her lips curled into a smile as she pointed to an object on the menu, not wanting to butcher the pronunciation.

The other bent over to read what it said. "The spaghettini puttanesca speciali?" He turned to her, blushing when he noticed his close proximity to her and quickly backed away.

Emma nodded. "Yes, thank you." She watched as he left, thinking about where she knew him from. It occurred to her that he looked a lot like Feliciano, the cute piccolo player in band, before it all clicked. She _knew_ she recognize him from somewhere! When he returned with her meal, she smiled at him charmingly. "Lovino, it's been so long!"

The other spluttered, attempting to conceal the pink blush on his face. "Ah, yes, Emma…it's been three years," Lovino added lamely, he'd rather be back in the kitchen than talking to the girl who broke his heart all those years ago, this was just way too embarrassing.

"How has it been since you graduated?" Her eyes brightened. "This job pay well?"

"Um, well, it's been fine," he said with a nod. "Pay is good, my father owns this place and a larger one in the city."

"Ohhh, how cool. What's that place called?"

"_Il Romano,_" he blushed upon seeing her smile, just wanting his stupid feelings for her to go away forever and not bother him anymore.

"Wait, isn't that the restaurant owned by…" She gasped. "I can't believe it took me this long to figure out, you even have the same last name!"

He chuckled forcefully, feeling a bit insecure with himself. He wasn't his father, nor was he as talented as his younger brother, so he had a hard time living up to the legacy of his name and tried not to bring it up whenever possible. "Not everyone makes the connection," he assured her, though that part was only true because many believed he wasn't a worthy successor to his father's business.

"Ah, well, never too late to correct a mistake," she smiled at him. "Do you think you could keep me company while I eat? Maybe we can catch up? I understand if you're bus-"

"Yes!" He wanted to slap himself. "I-I mean, I can take a break. I'm due for one anyway," he gave her a shaky smile, and she _giggled_. A part of him wanted to die, but another part of him was too eager to sit down.

For the next twenty minutes, they reacquainted with each other, and Lovino actually felt better knowing that Emma had only rejected him as his prom date because her older brother felt she should be more familiar with the kids at school before going, and she agreed. After all, what fun was prom if you didn't know anyone there? She had only been a freshman at the time. For the Italian, it was a relief to have some closure, to know that the rejection wasn't because of something she found wrong with him.

When Emma finished, she smiled and assured him she'd be back soon, but suggested he come to their last game of the season. Feliciano and Alfred would be there too, she promised, not thinking much of how the brunet's eyes widened when she mentioned the latter. She paid for her meal and left, kissing the Italian on the cheek politely before taking her leave, failing to notice the silhouette that stared at her from a dark alley not too far away, hiding in the shadows as it pursued its next prey.

* * *

_A/N: I got that whole thing with Romano making food for America straight out of a comic. I was kinda surprised to see them interact, but not really since NYC-NJ is filled with Italian-Americans. Literally most of my friends are. Though what's interesting to note is how sweet he is to him? Like, in one comic he offers to give him leftover lasagna when he sees him overworked, and in the cooking strip he imagines America in all these poses with sparkles? Idk, I just found it kinda cute. Just thought I should explain it so it didn't seem like I was pulling this Romerica out of my ass. Plus, it's kind of important to the story, so lol. _

_Ages for anyone who is curious: Alfred, Matthew, Feli, Ludwig, Ivan, and Kiku are all around 17-18, aka seniors in High School. Lovino is 20, so he was a senior in school when the boys were freshman. Francis and Gilbert are 22, while Antonio is 24, so they were all in the same school together at one point, along with Lovino. Basically yeah, everyone has known each other for a while. _

_Also, the foreshadow train continues, as does build-up. What can I say? I work at my own pace...we're only starting November now and the new year has so much left in store…_

_BTW the Marching Band uniform is based off the one seen in the "Hetalia: The Beautiful World: Sound World" CD cover. Everyone always makes Alfred a part of the football team, but I decided to be different. He's still a jock, mind you, but honestly football is so overrated. Everyone knows most of the audience at a game is for the marching band anyway ;) If you're curious, the performance they're doing is "Shades of Latin" which includes the songs: El Cumbanchero, Evil Ways, Novus, I Know You Want Me/Llorando Se Fue. You can find a video on Youtube if you're curious, but there's a ton of trumpet._

_And I'm so sorry Belgium, you deserved better. But rest assured, you will not be the last._

_Until next time, folks. _


	4. Dismantling the Norm

_A/N: Goodbye, slice of life, but you overstayed your welcome for a supposedly dark fic. Now we're finally getting to the goods._

* * *

**Chapter 4: Dismantling the Norm**

Alfred's mouth dropped slightly as he was met with a golden-furred, rabbit plush toy sitting at the bottom of his locker. Bending down and picking it up, he ran his fingers through its extra-soft coat, his brows scrunched together as he tried to think of a time he mentioned his childhood obsession to Ivan, but he drew a blank. This was weird, _really_ weird, how else would the Russian know about it? Shaking his head and drawing out a deep breath, he remembered that bunnies were also a popular stuffed animal, he was simply being paranoid for no reason. It was just a coincidence that Ivan picked the one he had the strongest attachment to, nothing more.

Kiku peeked over his shoulder, "Usagi?"

"It's cute right?" Smiling as he feigned obliviousness, Alfred held the plush toy close to his chest as he stood back up. "Wait, what was it you used to call me when we were little?"

"U-Usa-kun," the Japanese teen responded with an embarrassed smile, not seeing the cold, violet glare sent his way. "Do you know who put it there?"

"No idea," Alfred easily lied, his talent for acting shining through. He learned very early on that life was much easier when people only saw your facade rather than your true self. To be fair, the Russian had been pushy with his affections lately, it was getting a bit overwhelming. Though he loved the attention and was clearly attracted to the other, there was just something about it that made him feel...uncomfortable. Everything was happening so fast, so much thrust upon him at once. He just needed time to process it all.

Matthew's indigo gaze darted from the rabbit in his twin's arms, to the innocently smiling Russian behind him, before finally settling on Alfred. "So...you're okay with someone going into your locker without your permission?"

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, the golden-blond turned to his brother. "Dude, it's not even locked."

"That's not the point-" Matthew took a moment to pinch the bridge of his nose and took in a deep breath. "You should probably start doing that, it's a good habit to get into. But don't you care at all about your privacy being invaded?"

"I do not see signs of malintent," Ivan answered with a frown. "Whoever this person is, they mean no harm."

"Exactly, it's not like they're stealing, they're _giving_," Alfred shut the locker door. "Besides, this locker's a bitch to open, and I don't even remember the-" Before he could finish, Matthew reached out a hand and twisted the dial, sealing its doors tightly and leaving Alfred momentarily confounded. Recovering, his shoulders slumped dejectedly, realizing he'd have to go to the office later to get the combination, because yes, it had been _that_ long since he used it. "You ass."

"No, I _care_," Matthew huffed.

"Yes, because someone is totally going to steal my textbooks. Oh no, my binders…" Alfred rolled his eyes, a sour pout on his lips.

"Well, maybe your admirer should quit being a creep and actually confess to you." With the way violet eyes narrowed, a scowl etched on thin lips, Matthew was very well aware that the Russian was sizing him up. As intimidating as it was, he was not going to let it stop him from knocking sense into his brother.

"You're no fun," Alfred whined.

"I hope you realize you're giving them the wrong message here. This is just a slippery slope to them taking advantage of you."

"Whatever," he averted his gaze, only for his blue eyes catch sight of a person he hadn't seen in a while. "Hey, what's Tim doing here?"

"Huh?" Matthew's head whipped around and followed the other's line of sight, brows raised in surprise when he saw it was none other than the Dutchman who graduated the year before, wandering the halls, wearing a concentrated expression as though searching for something. The older twin cocked his head to the side before turning to his brother. "Can you tell Mr. Edelstein I might be a bit late?"

"Hm?" He wasn't surprised to see Alfred back on his phone, glued to the screen, not even sparing him a glance. "Yeah, sure." Letting out a heavy sigh and rolling his eyes, Matthew jogged toward his friend.

"Tim? What are you doing here?"

Green eyes softened with recognition. "Ah, Matthew, good to see you."

Matthew beamed at the other, "Yes, you too! Is there a reason you're here? N-not that I'm not glad to see you!" He insisted quickly, only relaxing when the other sent him a rare smile.

It faltered almost as quickly as it came. "Emma never came home last night, she hasn't contacted me or Lux. I notified the police, but I came here to see if I could find anything myself."

The younger teen paled, his mind instantly going to the worst case scenario before brushing it off. This was Emma, the guard captain! The girl who worked with him, Mei, and Mr. Edelstein on the Marching Band drill. She was always there to tease him when he went to their house and offered him chocolate, always claiming hers was the best. She was one of the few people who noticed him in the halls and would stop to say hi, aside from Alfred and Carlos, even after her brother graduated. He desperately hoped she was okay. "D-Do you need any help?"

Tim waved his hand in dismissal. "Just, if you see anything, let me know?"

He nodded. "Of course!"

They said their goodbyes to each other and went separate ways, though as much as Matthew wanted to disagree with it, his gut was telling him that something was very _wrong_.

.oOo.

Mashing the buttons on his controller, Alfred's gaze remained fixed on the TV screen before him, his face paling and eyes widening with dread as his best friend's character charged at him with a powered attack that launched him out of bounds. "What? Nooo!" He cried, dropping his controller onto his lap and clutching his hair in anguish. "That's the seventh fucking time!"

Kiku sent him a half-hearted smirk as the game proclaimed him the winner before becoming serious. "Al-kun? May we talk?"

"Huh?" The American relaxed as he turned to his friend, noticing an uncertain gleam in brown eyes. "Yeah, what's up?"

"It's just that…" He bit his lip as he struggled to find the right words. "I have some concerns about your friendship with Ivan," he admitted.

Tensing, already knowing where this was heading, he decided to bite the bullet anyway. "What do you mean?"

"He is always following you, watching what you do. He does not let the rest of us talk to you during lunch, almost like he wants to separate you from us...he is always walking you to your classes, is always so close to you and affectionate, yet so cold to everyone else. I'm just worried about his interest in you being a little...obsessive."

Narrowing his eyes as he pursed his lips in thought, he contemplated what Kiku told him before making a decision, shaking his head as he did so. "No, I don't think so. Like I know he's clingy and all, but he has issues and I'm waiting for the right time to bring them up. I can't just abandon him, I'm the only friend he has here. I think he's made great progress since the beginning of the year."

"Issues?" Kiku raised a brow, as if expecting him to elaborate.

"Sorry, I just don't think it's my place to say too much, but believe me, he's much different than when we first met. I think he just needs more time to open up and trust others. The reason he treats me differently is because I was there for him when he really hit rock-bottom. He trusts me," Alfred explained, hoping his friend would understand.

The brunet sighed as he gave a small nod. "I see, that makes sense. My apologies, you are right, Ivan's problems are his own and it is not my place to pry. I only want to make sure you're safe."

Smiling fondly at his friend, he was glad he was fortunate enough to have someone like Kiku in his life. "Thanks, but I'm the hero. I keep others safe, not the other way around," he teased.

Chuckling softly, Kiku took a moment to think of his next question. "So have you made any progress helping him with the issues themselves?"

"Uh, well, I don't really know how to bring them up," Alfred shrugged bashfully. "Everytime I try to get him to break down his walls, he kinda just gets me talking about myself again and I fall for it everytime. I'm guessing it's a really sensitive topic for him."

Brows narrowing, Kiku turned to him, his gaze stern. "Do you know anything about him? Things that don't involve you?"

"Uhhh, he's from Russia," the Japanese teen gestured for him to continue. "He likes sunflowers?"

"Is that all?" Brown eyes widened considerably. "What about his family? Does he have siblings? Have you been to his house?" Noticing his friend staring at him blankly, struggling to reply, he chose to go on. "Yet he knows a lot about you, and he's been here many times..."

Nodding hesitantly, Alfred frowned. "Maybe his personal life is difficult, so he spends time with me to escape it?" For him, he was quite familiar with the concept, and therefore it was easy to sympathise.

"Or he could be hiding things from you. You are walking a very fine line, Al-kun."

Quiet in his reflection, though not in the mood to continue the conversation any further, he picked up his controller and began roaming over the other characters on the selection screen whilst his mind remained elsewhere. Kiku glanced at him worriedly, before preparing to start a new match.

The sudden stomping down the staircase jolted him out of his daze, he craned his neck to see Matthew rushing into the family room where he seized the remote off the couch's armrest and changed the input.

"Dude, what the fuck? We were playing-" The older twin raised a hand to silence his brother, his expression steely as he put on the news, ignoring the annoyed pout Alfred was giving him. Crossing his arms as he sunk into the couch, the younger of the two glared at the screen as he waited for his brother to do whatever he needed to so he could go back to his game.

The mention of his high school caught his attention. His mouth dropped in shock when the news anchor reported that a student had been murdered by the local serial killer, hacked by a machete in the same brutal manner as the last two victims. There were still no signs of the murderer, but viewers were assured that the authorities were doing everything they could to track the criminal down.

A silent horror filled the room before Matthew broke down into sobs, burying his face into his hands. "It's Emma…I knew it." Stunned with disbelief, Kiku and Alfred exchanged a glance before the younger twin wrapped his arms around the trembling teen.

"W-what makes you say that?" Alfred hated how shaky his own voice was, but this news actually made his blood run cold.

"Tim told me she never came back home," Matthew's voice cracked as he took off his glasses to wipe his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. "She wasn't at school all day, and then he texted me that the police went to his house and...well, he told me to check the news."

"N-no way," Alfred felt his own blue eyes stinging as his stomach churned achingly. The last time they talked, he'd been a bit bitter, having confronted her on what she did at their last game. Though not long-lasting and only half-hearted, it was terrible to think of that as his last memory with her. She was such a good friend, so fun and kind, always welcoming him to hang out with her and her friends when other cliques were bothering him. Emma deserved the best in life, not this. This was just too unreal, he couldn't believe it.

But his sobbing brother kind of forced him to accept reality.

"I-I must get going, my parents will worry if I'm not home before they see this," the two boys nodded in understanding as Kiku bowed and took his leave. It was very much like him to not want to inconvenience his parents, especially since his mother was very cautious and worrisome, that was something Alfred and Matthew had learned about him over the years.

"I'm...I'm going to Tim's to make sure he's okay...God, I feel so terrible!" Matthew stood up quickly, startling Alfred who backed away.

"D-do you want me to go with you?" The back of his throat was dry as he followed his brother to the foyer, watching his twin search for the car keys in the dish on the entry table.

"No, it's fine," he opened the door. "H-Hey, Kiku, I'll drive you home!" It shut with a loud thud that made him wince.

And then he was alone, he thought as he twisted the entrance's lock. Just like that.

Tears welled in his eyes all at once and he ran upstairs to his room, slamming the door behind him. Seriously? A serial killer was running around his neighborhood and now one of his good friends was dead? Who was next? It could honestly be anyone at this point. He was shaking, genuinely afraid for once, wishing that at least mom or dad could be home and give him some peace of mind. Anything! If only he hadn't said goodbye to that fantasy world, he just wanted to escape reality for a little bit. If he could, he would take it all back. All he wanted to do was to forget about his problems for a while, maybe see Tony and Whaley, or the bunny with the bushy eyebrows...just anything that could comfort him from the fear he felt.

He stumbled toward his closet and opened the door. Nothing! It was never real, as much as he'd like to believe otherwise. Distraught, he fell onto his bed and clutched on to the nearest pillow, sobbing as he mourned his friend. Eventually, exhaustion overcame him and he passed out, sprawled over tear-soaked sheets. At one point he stirred, feeling a dip in his bed and gentle caress play with his hair. Assuming it was Matthew, he allowed it to continue, embracing the comfort and falling into a calming slumber.

When he awoke the next morning, it was just him and the cats - Maple was against his side while Hero's weight pressed down onto his lower back. '_This is unusual_,' he thought as he shuffled around, ignoring the claws sinking into his shirt as he dragged the fat cat off of him and set the bundle of fur aside. Maple usually slept with Matthew, or mom whenever she was home. He glanced at his alarm clock: 6:24 am. Quickly he pushed off his bed and went through the bathroom to his twin's bedroom, immediately noticing that his perfectly-made bed was untouched. Did his brother not come home last night?

Trembling, he went back into his bedroom where both his cats peered at him with annoyance, as if beckoning him to come back to bed and provide them with warmth. Maybe he had felt the cats then? Or maybe he dreamt it - that had to be it. A sigh of relief escaped him, but his fear was replaced with irritation.

Did his brother seriously make him spend the night alone when there was a _serial killer_ on the loose? Honestly, _what the hell_? Immediately he reported it in his journal, letting it serve as a reminder that he needed to think of some very choice words for his twin the next time he saw him. Not even a goddamn message to let him know what was going on? That he was okay? It was odd for Matthew to be this inconsiderate, that was _his_ thing.

"At least you guys care about me…" he sat on his bed, fingers stroking through Maple's cream fur. "Who needs Mattie anyway?" his brows narrowed. Maybe he was taking this too personally, after all, the guy's sister just died...but Emma had been his friend too. Why couldn't he have gone along and they all would have mourned together or something? No, he just had to be left alone, in a big, empty house, as his brother essentially ditched him while his parents were away at work. Great, so not only was he alone in terms of his social life, but also his home life? Or maybe it had always been the other way around. No wonder he had to resort to imaginary friends in his childhood, he pondered sadly.

At least he would see Kiku and Ivan in school.

.oOo.

True to word, Ivan was standing by his locker as he approached, a smile on his face that managed to relieve him a little bit. At least he had _someone_ he could depend on. He'd seen Matthew talking with Carlos on his way through the halls, so at least he knew his brother was safe and well, not that he had the courtesy to send him a text or anything. Hell, he had to walk to school on his own since his twin took the car and forgot to run back home and pick him up. Really, what was he? Chopped liver? There was a _killer_ on the loose, for Christ's sake. To say he was a bit miffed was the understatement of the century.

"Hey, Ivan," he managed a smile as he opened his door, blue eyes immediately landing on his newest gift. Lip quirking in wry amusement as he picked up the mp3 player and inspected it, he wondered if this whole 'gifts in the locker' scenario was going to become a daily ritual. To be honest, these constant displays of affection made him feel guilty. He worried he was leading Ivan on, and for what? His constant need of attention? How pathetic could he be?

A sticky note was taped to the back. '_This song makes me think of you_, _my only love,_' was scrawled onto it in a beautiful cursive he was familiar with. Clearly Ivan didn't care too much about being elusive. Unravelling the earbuds attached, he secured one in his ear and turned on the device, pressing play once the startup finished.

His breath hitched when he heard a familiar beat drop, eyes widening in alarm as his heart palpitated loudly against his ribs. This, _this_ was insane. _No one_ knew he adored that song, it had always been a secret. Not to mention the Russian got the specific version of the song he loved, how would Ivan even know that? It wasn't something he boasted about, he was too embarrassed by it! Breath unsteady and fingers trembling, he shut off the device and slipped it into his pocket.

"Ah, is something the matter, lyubov moya?" Ivan cocked his head to the side, eyes lit with concern.

"H-huh? Oh, it's nothing," he squeaked as he shook his head, perhaps with a bit more energy than necessary. Maybe he should get a drink of water, was he feeling lightheaded? This was just - weird. Too weird. Maybe Matthew was right, maybe Ivan was a stalker because he hadn't heard that song for _years_. Even his own flesh-and-blood twin didn't know!

Unconvinced, Ivan pouted and crossed his arms. "Does not seem to be nothing, you look like you seen ghost. Did it not please you?"

Alfred waved his hand in dismissal. "N-no, it's just...it surprised me is all. I didn't expect something so personal..." Maybe he was overreacting, it wasn't like the Russian could read his mind, right? Maybe it was a lucky guess, maybe it was Ivan's favorite song too? It was extremely popular and romantic, so it wasn't too much of a stretch. He managed to convince himself there was nothing odd about it, though that reassurance didn't dispel any of his other morning anxieties.

Noticing his downcast eyes, Ivan clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Is not just that, I sense something else troubles you. Please tell me?"

Eager to forget his recent spur of paranoia and unable to resist those pleading, violet eyes, Alfred let out a heavy sigh as he remembered his earlier dilemma. "Emma died, she was killed by the serial killer," he said barely above a whisper, watching Ivan's reaction, whose eyes softened sympathetically. "Matthew went to Tim's and spent the night, but I guess he kind of forgot about me? As if I wanted to be home alone after hearing there's a murderer in our neighborhood," he grumbled, ignoring the stinging in the corner of his eyes.

"I see," Ivan's expression shifted into something much more derisive, a sneer on his face while his brows narrowed and pose straightened. "I should have expected nothing less."

"What?" Alfred was taken aback by the shift in Ivan's attitude, raising a brow. "What are you talking about?"

The Russian stared at him for a moment, eyes glazed as his fingers reached forward to push back a few golden locks out of his face, stopping himself just as he grazed against a strand. "You should not count on the distracted to protect you. You will only be let down in the end..." He retracted his hand hesitantly, tone gentle and foreboding.

Alfred felt the need to defend himself, he wasn't some weakling. "I'm not counting on anyone-"

"Your brother has let his personal feelings get in the way of your security, has he not?"

Eyeing him dubiously, Alfred was unsure of what he was getting at. "His personal feelings?"

"Yes," Ivan nodded, his gaze icy and bitter, which unnerved the American. The bell rang, and it was then Alfred realized the halls had emptied. They needed to get to homeroom, but a strong grip on his elbow steered him in the opposite direction and held him in place once his back was pressed against metal.

Uncomfortable with being closed in, his hands pressed against the Russian's chest to get some space, but the other didn't seem to get the message. "I-Ivan, we need to-"

"If you are ever scared or alone, do not rely on others. Only _I_ can protect you, solnyshko," his grasp was tight, almost painful, and for a moment Alfred saw the intimidating Ivan the other students had been weary about since the beginning. His violet irises were too intense and serious for his liking, the way he towered over him and made him feel so small - he gulped in fear, which was ironic considering what Ivan just told him. The unexpected change in personality was disturbing, and why did everything he say come off as a warning? Ivan moved closer so his lips were right above his ear, all personal space was forfeit and his power over the situation gone. "You don't need anyone else, not when you have me. I can already tell how this will go, let me spare you the heartache," the husky voice made him shiver, it was completely unlike the usual sweet tone he spoke with.

"Back off!" Alfred pushed with more force, though the other didn't respond to it. God, how was his chest hard as a rock? Ivan only moved back when he decided to, and it was just enough to get a better look at the American's face, where he noted the golden-blond was frustrated with his cryptic words. "What the hell is wrong with you, Ivan? You're acting so weird!"

Ivan let out a sardonic laugh. "You think these so-called friends of yours truly care for you? Nyet, I have seen them all for what they truly are, and yet I _still_ decided to give them a chance for your sake. Now I see I was wrong to do so. I will trust _no one_ with you, not even your family which neglects you so."

"Hey, letmego-!" Squirming to get out of the bigger teen's grasp, he found that he could barely budge. "Ivan, stop!" His breathing was getting more erratic, he was _scared_. What happened to his friend? Who was this guy? Was this the person Matthew and even Kiku tried to warn him about? _Fuck_, how did he not see it?

"What is today? The 16th correct? Ah, the last game is tomorrow. You will see in time that I am correct," he released Alfred, who rubbed his elbows and averted his gaze as he waited for the Russian to get out of his space. Instead, he felt a hand on his cheek guide him back to Ivan's pale face, who smiled at him lovingly and made his own heart feel like it'd burst from his chest. Chapped lips planted themselves on his own, eliciting a small, startled yelp as he found himself overwhelmed by a desperate, ravenous kiss. Paralyzed and dazed, he was lost in a trance until he felt a foreign tongue swirl inside him - the back of his head rammed into the locker, a loud _CLANG_ as he momentarily saw stars.

"C-careful, my love," Ivan backed away, letting out a curse in Russian as his fingers moved to pull the American away from the storage compartments whilst his other hand caressed the sore occipital, making sure it was okay. "Sorry, I got carried away...I just love you so much, it would kill me if you were to get hurt..." he said softly. Alfred blushed as he was tugged by his conflicted feelings for the umpteenth time, only now they were tearing him apart. No, this was _not_ how he expected the confession to come out, this was just way too fucking much in such a short period of time.

Finally he managed to break free from Ivan's grip. "Just back up, okay! I-I need time to think!" The fuck was happening? He was confused and frightened, but more so he was furious. He didn't give a shit about Ivan's confused expression, eyes blinking innocently as they tried to understand his anger. "There's some things I need to process, g-give me some space!"

"Very well," Ivan chirped, his personality reverting to its normal state with the ease of flipping a light-switch. _What_? With a timid shake of his head, he ran to class.

Little did he know that it was only the beginning.

.oOo.

Alfred sat on the bleachers, staring at the field with unblinking eyes. His gaze found itself roaming over the crowd, a mourning silence among them as they paid their minute long respects to Emma, who the game was now dedicated to. He saw his mother weeping as she sympathized with the parents who lost their only daughter, being held on one side by Francis who massaged her hand and let her rest her head on his shoulder, while Jeanne sat on her other, rubbing small circles into her back. Tim was sitting with Matthew a few rows ahead of him, with his twin patted his shoulder comfortingly. As Feliciano wiped his eyes, Ludwig wrapped an arm around him and held him close to his chest as he closed his eyes respectfully. Kiku sat beside him, head lowered to avoid letting anyone see the wet gleam in his eyes. Alfred turned in his seat, blue eyes fixing themselves on the other guard members who grieved over the loss of their captain. Despite all this, he still couldn't believe she was actually gone. He had only seen her a few days ago, smiling as she talked to Ivan, giving him a teasing smirk as he bitched at her for what she did. How could she be here one moment and then dead the next? It was terrifying to think about.

Speaking of Ivan, he was here too. Phone in hand, typing something, mirroring him perfectly. Purple eyes glanced up, straight at him, and he froze as he felt their intensity. A smile graced the other's lips as he tucked his phone into his beige coat, and Alfred struggled to get a grip on himself and look away. He was conflicted, to say the least. After spending a whole 24 hours trying to figure out his stance on the enigma that was Ivan, he still couldn't decide on what to think. Was he a vulnerable teen who needed a friend? A guy with an obsessive crush he let go on for too long? The only thing that he could think of was that the Russian changed considerably after his suspension, no longer being the shy boy he felt he had to look out for. Did something happen in that time? Was he not seeing something important? He was having trouble making sense of it all, almost as though there were gaps of vital information just _missing_. A part of him was on the verge of losing his damn mind unless he got some answers.

Maybe Ivan had always been insane, it would explain his use of extreme violence against Kevin. But the Russian had been afraid of himself then, terrified that he lost control. The Ivan from the other day seemed a lot more..._possessive_, just as Matthew had said. Honestly, nothing made sense, and these contradictions were making it hard for him to determine his relationship with Ivan moving forward. What was he supposed to _do_? Could he really just drop the guy like he was nothing? After all their bonding the past two months? Ivan had been doing so well though...but at the same time, apparently not.

His eyes roamed over the crowd, needing to think of something other than Ivan, only for them to freeze on a certain individual. What was Lovino Vargas doing here? He never came to their games. His face was pale, body tense, shaking in agitation as his hazel eyes stared at the football field, watching as the announcer concluded the moment of silence. With a raised brow, Alfred glanced at Feliciano, who didn't even seem aware of his older brother's presence. Of all the games for him to come to, why _this_ one.

The game started, and the drum majors were beginning to conduct. Letting out a heavy sigh of relief for the distraction, he could put off his crisis until after the halftime show.

.oOo.

Lovino wrung his hands as he approached Alfred at the end of the game, sucking in a breath as he watched the blond put away his instrument. He had to do this, it was for the teen's safety he did this. His mind was made.

"A-Alfredo?" The American turned to him, confused. Even Feliciano spun around when he recognized the voice, amber eyes wide with surprise.

"You did good," his voice was strained as he took a moment to praise his younger brother - it hurt to say. Feliciano was good at everything, while he wasn't, and it felt like he just poured more salt onto his wound called insecurity. The teen sent him a small smile, and he faced the blond who stared at him expectantly. "Can we talk? Privately?"

"Sure," Alfred replied with a quick nod, following him as he led him to below the bleachers, an area secluded from everyone else. When he stopped, he watched as the American set his trumpet case on the ground beside him and leaned against a metal post. "So, what's up-"

"You need to stop coming to the restaurant!" The words spilled from his lips, his face red with humiliation and self-loathing.

"Um, _what_?" Alfred blinked in shock.

"It's too dangerous, there is a serial killer on the loose and-"

"What does that have to do with anything?" The teen interrupted, scowling.

Tears poured out of his eyes and he couldn't stop them. "P-please, you just can't come anymore. You're _banned_…you idiot, just _listen_ to me-"

"What did I do?" He asked, an edge of anger in his tone.

"Y-you didn't do anything!" he admitted, the words were just coming out of him before he had time to think them through.

"So why am I-"

"Because I'm trying to _protect_ you, you shithead!"

Alfred paused for a moment. "P-protect me? You mean from the serial killer? W-why would he want me?" His voice went up an octave as he felt chills run down his spine. "I-I think you're just paranoid-"

Lovino groaned. "Idiota, you don't understand! He's going after people I-I…" He couldn't say it. Couldn't admit to the fact he recognized every single one of the serial killer's victims. All _four_ of them now, they were customers he expressed an interest in. Somebody was watching him and eliminating their competition.

"Ah, there you are dorogoy, I have been looking all over for you!" Ivan smiled innocently as he approached them, Alfred pushed himself off the post and raised his arms defensively as though they'd shield him from the other. Ivan's smile was instantly wiped when he saw the Italian, eyes sharpening dangerously as his voice became a low growl. "_You_."

"Ivan, I thought I told you I need space!" Alfred frowned at the Russian, Lovino's eyes glancing between the two of them as he backed away from the tall teenager who strode toward him, an arm extended.

Suddenly Lovino was off his feet, body against a post, clawing at a large, gloved hand wrapped around his neck, holding him up effortlessly. "B-bastardo, let me go!"

"What the fuck are you doing? Stop!" Alfred tugged on Ivan's free arm, trying to get him away from the Italian, but to no avail.

There was only pure abhorrence in his violet eyes as he glowered at the man above him. "I promised I would protect you Fedya...a dangerous man, this one."

"What? No, he's not!"

A twisted grin spread on Ivan's face before he let go, watching Lovino drop onto his knees with a hacking cough while he massaged his neck. "Go ahead! Tell him! Tell him the danger he is in now! I am sure he would be happy to know your little secret!"

"Ivan, just stop! You're scaring me!" He yelled at the other before kneeling beside the adult, resting a hand on his back as he checked to see if he was alright. Lovino's face pinkened slightly before he looked away in shame.

"Woah, woah, woah, muchachos, hold up!" Mr. Fernandez ran in front of Ivan and held up his hands to protect his friend. "I am sure there is a peaceful way to settle things, no?"

"I was wondering when you'd show up!" There was something in his eyes that was _excited_, maniacal. "Though is not like you were too far, da?" He managed a bright smile, closing his eyes cutely despite everything he did just a moment ago. Alfred could only stare at his friend in horror. Were these Ivan's true colors? Was the teen fucking insane? A _psychopath_? Oh, god…

Antonio faltered a bit, a flash of panic in his eyes, before he was able to manage a wavering smile. "Of course, I was watching the game like everyone else!" He laughed nervously.

"Ah, but that is not full story now, is it?" Ivan bent over slightly so they were eye level, hands innocently behind his back as purple clashed with green. He pushed past him and bent down, grabbing Alfred's arm rather roughly and pulling him to his feet before he had time to react, resulting in a small yelp. "Come, solnyshko, let us leave," he said sweetly, but his possessive pull was anything but.

Alfred attempted to get out of the other's grip. "Hey, let me go! I'm not leaving until Lovi tells me why I can't go to his restaurant anymore!" Antonio looked from him to the Italian, eyes clouded with thought as the smile was wiped from his face.

"Because I _hate_ you, you fat, American bastard!" He yelled despite his hoarse voice, choking out a dry sob, wanting to hide away forever when he saw the blond freeze, his face blank and blue eyes wide as tears started streaming down his cheeks.

"I-..._what_?"

"The sight of you makes me want to throw up," but in a pleasant way. "Making your meals is bothersome!" They gave him a sense of accomplishment. "You are annoying!" Annoyingly endearing. Internally he was _screaming_.

"Fine!" Alfred cried as his anger allowed him to tear his arm out of Ivan's hold. "I'll find other fucking restaurants! There's plenty!"

Ivan hummed in content, a triumphant smile on his face. "I think I know a -"

"And you!" The American whipped around, absolutely livid as his eyes were red and puffy. "You're walking on thin fuckin' ice!"

The Russian's face suddenly became panicked, like a child getting scolded. "H-huh?"

"What the hell is _wrong_ with you? You've honestly been freaking me out these past few days, what with that shit you pulled yesterday and now hurting Lovino! Just stop! Leave me alone!"

"A-ah, I see…I did not mean to frighten you..." he mumbled, and Alfred could only stare at him in bewilderment as he tried to comprehend a flustered Ivan after just seeing him nearly strangle someone. _Again_!

"I. Need. Space!" Alfred repeated one last time, then sent Lovino one last pained look before storming off. "If you can't give me that, consider our friendship over! For _good_."

Ivan stood there frozen, in shock, before nodding. "V-very well, I will give you space..." His eyes drifted to the Spaniard, who watched the American's back with a look he recognized before Lovino's coughs redirected their attention.

"C-cuidado, Lovi," Antonio helped raise Lovino to his feet. "Let's get you some water, okay?"

Ivan lips pressed into a tight smile as his eyes gleamed maliciously, squinting knowingly as he turned toward the Italian. "Give your father my regards, da?" He shot Antonio one last contemptuous smirk before taking his leave.

With the weight of his actions burdening him, Lovino buried his face into his hands and cried.

.oOo.

Alfred rushed home, not even bothering to wait for his family as he instead took the bike path behind his house, serial killer be damned. He didn't care anymore, and he didn't want anyone to see him cry or ask questions. Fuck Lovino and fuck Ivan. He pushed open the back door to his house, darted straight to his room and slammed the door behind him, sliding down the wood until his bottom hit the floor, a new wave of tears pouring from him as he brought his knees to his chest. Emma was dead, Matthew was too busy for him, Ivan was just scary and confusing, and now Lovino hated him. Wonderful.

A deep chill in the air caught his attention, and he shivered, lifting his head from the knees he hugged as he slowly processed what was happening. His watery eyes scanned the area, and his peripheral vision caught sight of something he thought he'd never see again. The crack under his closet door was seeping a lavender light into his bedroom, though he could've sworn it used to be golden…

He really was losing it, huh? With a shake of his head, he pushed himself off the ground and turned the knob, his breath escaping him once he saw what waited for him on the other side. Like the interior of a cathedral, it was vast and empty, with massive vaulted ceilings that no man could ever hope to recreate. A gigantic sphere levitated in the middle of the chamber, and something about it made him gravitate toward it. Taking a tentative step onto clean, reflective porcelain tiles that seemed to expand for miles, he gently shut the door behind him before moving forward, each step producing an echo that filled the silence.

Rubbing his arms anxiously as he approached the sphere, he was finally able to find his voice. "D-Deus?"

Like a gyroscope spinning on its axis, the sphere's shell rotated, revealing a large, elderly man, whose pale skin and jagged, grey hair gleamed as reflective panels, his body covered in a pure white cloak. His movements were limited, mechanical, steel-colored eyes like glass as he regarded him from his clockwork throne, the gears behind him churning as though winding him up. Alfred fondly recalled thinking once that the deity of his imagination resembled his tin soldiers, but now older, he felt the other looked more like a metallic nutcracker if anything.

"_**Slowly the pieces come together for this new game..." **_The God's mouth moved on a hinge, it would be frightening had the teen not grown used to it.

"It really is you," he whispered softly, lips curving into a small, evocative smile.

"_**Welcome back, Alfred."**_

* * *

_A/N: Not a long wait between this chapter and the last one, mainly because this was mostly written and I'm like SUPER eager to finally make shit hit the fan, you know? I'm done with development, I'm ready for chaos. _

_So yes, Alfred is going through a bit of a hard time right now. He suddenly just had so many things dropped on him at once, but hey, shit happens, and it's only gonna get worse for him here on out. But look at Ivan getting into fight mode every time he sees Alfred distressed, too bad he doesn't realize his own actions amplify it by 10,000 every time. Needless to say, things are gonna be pretty hectic going forth. _

_For Deus Ex Machina, since I hate using OCs and didn't want to use characters from Mirai Nikki, he is literally just a metal version of an OOC God from Hetalia. AKA the same one who told Hungary to hit France with a frying pan, lol. God bless America, amiright? _

_Also, I don't feel like sharing the song Alfred heard on the mp3 player yet. I left it vague for a reason, let's just say it's a huge spoiler that perfectly explains his and Ivan's relationship. I will reveal it eventually, just not anytime soon. _

_Next chapter, the survival game finally starts. Let's get this show on the road!_


	5. Bestowed By the Gods

_A/N: Game Start. This might be the last chapter for a while as I actually have school starting this week and a lot of planning/writing/editing/proofreading ahead of me. _

* * *

**Chapter 5: Bestowed By the Gods**

Doodling on the edge of his study guide, Alfred let out a somber sigh as the professor droned on about the renaissance. There was no point in paying attention, he already knew he was going to do poorly on the midterm. If only he was back in AP US history or AP US Government, at least those courses he could excel in, but Europe had so much information and countries that it was so easy for him to jumble everything up. What did you mean there was a country called Austria in central Europe? He always just assumed Mr. Edelstein was mispronouncing Australia. And Lithuania? His old babysitter Toris would've been proud to hear he finally understood it was an actual country. Of all the courses he took, this one was especially frustrating since it was the only one he couldn't do well in. No matter how hard he tried or studied, a C grade was his best-case scenario. Without Ivan or his brother's help, he'd be lucky to get a D on the upcoming test.

Speaking of Ivan, his peer seemed to be listening attentively to the lesson, at least whenever Alfred didn't catch him stealing glances. True to word, he'd been keeping his distance from Alfred after their fall out last game. The Russian seemed to disappear from his life except for the classes they shared together, though the gifts in the locker only stopped after he resorted to locking the door and had gathered all the items that had accumulated over the course of a few days, returning them to the other whilst firmly telling him that this violated his need for space. Thankfully, Ivan honored that request, and their interactions have been practically nonexistent ever since. With the stress of his tumultuous relationship out of the way, and now high school marching band forever finished, he was finally able to look ahead toward swim season. All he had to do was stay in shape and focus on winning races, though this meant he had even less time with his brother, who now not only preoccupied himself with Tim, but hockey as well. They barely ever saw each other anymore, mainly it was in band class as they worked on their winter rehearsal, but it wasn't like they could talk much then, and at the house on the rare occasion both were there and weren't completely exhausted. It wasn't uncommon for him to come home only to find it empty then later receive a text from his twin saying he was spending the night with his friend. What were they even _doing_? Did they start dating or something? It seemed like pretty poor timing considering recent events.

Still, coming back to a desolate house when it was dark out now that daylight savings was a thing wasn't something he was fond of, only relying on his cats for comfort unless it was a weekend mom was home. It was usually around this time of year that sleepovers with his best friend would be more frequent, but Kiku's parents were being strict with him, giving him a curfew and not letting him visit until they were assured the serial killer was caught. His own mother just sent him and his brother check up messages every day around the same time whenever she wasn't around so she could rest soundly, which he had to admit did make him feel secure. Dad's contact was less frequent, but that made sense since he was a pilot and was more limited on when he could text and visit, but he still made the effort when he could.

Really the only time he was able to fulfill his social needs were at lunch, though Mattie sometimes sat with Carlos and his hockey team. While Alfred could talk to Kiku about anything, after the whole thing with Lovino, he felt really awkward sitting near Feliciano. He and Ludwig were never really that close, probably sharing only a handful of conversations with each other that were mainly school-related, so no changes to that relationship. His only other friend was Kyle, who he saw more often now because of swim, but that was it. Of course he had plenty of people to talk to if he wanted, like for casual conversations or in-passing, but beyond that? There was no one. He wanted people he could count on to always be there for him and actually enjoyed his company, not just when it was convenient for their popularity.

Yet, Mattie was never there for him anymore. Hell, his twin didn't even know that he was regressing back to his old self. Kiku was more aware, they texted constantly and played games online, but Alfred _really_ didn't want to bring up the fact that he'd been visiting his imaginary world recently. Knowing his friend, he would grab his arm and force him to endure another intervention. Like hell was he going to go through that again, he wasn't crazy. All he wanted was someone who could keep him company so he'd feel a little less alone...

At least Francis and Jeanne were occasional company, otherwise he'd wither without consistent social interaction and affection. The couple went to a few of his practices and races to cheer him on, sometimes his cousin would come home and make dinner while Jeanne helped him wax or they'd all watch a movie together. Despite being busy with school, he appreciated the fact they tried to make time for him, though it wasn't until last weekend his mother reminded him of what was missing.

"_What happened to Ivan? Instead of moping around at home, why don't you call him?"_

"_We don't talk anymore."_

"_Oh, I just thought - nevermind."_

"_You thought what?"_

"_I thought you two were an item. Hey, don't give me that look! You two just seemed... intimate." _

"_No...we were never a thing." _

Ever since he took a 'break' from the Russian, he realized he felt miserable. There was absolutely no one to talk to like they had, no one his age to hang out with. He had to admit they really did get along well. Never once did anybody understand him like Ivan, who was so eager to come over and spend time with him at any point if he just asked. The only issue was the guy's overbearing and freaky personality that he had no clue how to deal with, it was just a huge mental toll on him, especially with all the other stressors going on his life. No matter how lonely he was, he couldn't go back to Ivan until he finally made up his damn mind about how he felt about him. It wouldn't be fair to either of them otherwise.

Regardless, as long as he had his two cats and imagination, he'd be fine. Besides, winter break would be coming soon, his college applications were almost completed, and his family was going to spend the holiday with his grandparents in LA. He'd get his nice tan back, relax, have fun at the beach, get a good look at his dream school, and maybe, just maybe, come back home in a better state of mind.

He could hope, right?

.oOo.

Alfred was on his phone as he sat in front of his TV, his mother and father a bit tipsy as they watched the celebrity announcer in the city prepare for the ball drop, as though they genuinely believed they'd be able to find Francis and Jeanne in a crowd that dense. Like every year, Matthew was out with Tim, probably getting stoned, and as usual mom had only made him promise to be responsible before letting him go on his merry way. As for himself, he'd been invited to go to a party with one with his classmates, but did he want to? No, because all it would entail were a bunch of teenagers underage drinking and having sex, and if this were anything like last year, he _knew_ he was going to be peer pressured into doing things he'd later regret and then come home to a panicked mother who was just about to call the cops. Instead, he was perfectly content with reading the stirred up drama on social media, and would gladly wait until after-prom to party his heart out when nobody gave a shit about what he did because everyone was done with each other anyway.

"Look, Alfredo Sauce!" Allen ruffled his hair before wrapping an arm around his neck, bringing him closer to his chest. "The countdown is about to start!" He rested his head against his dad's shoulder, watching as the number descended for a full minute before the crowd roared in unison during the last ten seconds. There was a flash of light from the clocktower, the camera then panning to those making out. He rolled his eyes, only to let out a repulsed groan as he saw his parents kiss beside him.

"Happy new year, sweetie!" his mom stood up and kissed the crown of his head.

"Happy new year, kiddo," Allen planted a quick kiss to his temple.

"Yes, yes, happy new year," he smiled despite himself. "I'm gonna go play games with Kiku. If I see Hero or Maple I'll let them know," his parents merely waved at him before changing the channel to the _Twilight Zone_ marathons that always ran.

After a quick run up the stairs and shutting the door behind him, he was content to see his best buds on his bed, Maple giving him that fond look he always did while Hero continued sleeping, not caring about his arrival. He turned on the television and set up his console, inviting Kiku to a party and rotating between a few games before getting tired. As he struggled to keep his eyes open, he glanced at the time on his home screen. 5:23 am? _Oops_. They said their goodbyes and he shut down his electronics before laying in bed, taking a quick picture of his cats before writing a detailed entry about recent events. It was shortly after when he set aside his glasses and turned off the lamp, head hitting the pillow just before he collapsed into a dreamless sleep, unaware of what the new year had in store for him.

.oOo.

It was around 3pm when he woke up, sprawled on his bed with only Hero still with him. He noticed the door was slightly ajar, probably because mom usually did that if she knew the cats were with him. With a loud yawn and big stretch, he pulled himself out of bed and went downstairs, only to be surprised when he saw a suitcase by the door. Wasn't dad supposed to leave hours ago? Entering the kitchen, he noticed his mother dressed in casual business attire while on her phone speaking rapid French, her free hand scrolling through her laptop. Only understanding a few phrases here and there, especially since he was still groggy, he opted to heat up some leftovers - another pro to spending New Year's with his parents, they took him out to a restaurant of his choice: _Olive Garden_. The nearest authentic Italian restaurant he wasn't unjustly banned from. He wasn't still bitter over that or anything, of course not.

As he ate his meal in silence at the kitchen island, he watched his mother hang up the phone and send him an apologetic smile. "So sorry, sweetheart, but I have to take a little trip."

Pouting, he realized the suitcase out front was hers. She was on break wasn't she? Spring classes didn't start for like three weeks, she was supposed to be spending time with him! Yes, he admitted he could be a bit of a mama's boy, but what son wasn't? "Okay, trip where?"

"Your mémé hurt herself last night and now I have to go make sure she's alright, since she's too stubborn to see a doctor. She doesn't want to be a bother, she says," Madeline rolled her eyes as Alfred's widened in shock. "I should be back in a week or two, think you can hold the fort for me?"

"Yeah, sure. Wow, I hope she's okay. Tell her that I miss her and can't wait until she visits us," she always made the best french toast and sent him the most heart-warming gifts. Plus she had the funniest, most scandalous stories ever. She was an absolute treasure to mankind.

They talked for a while until her Uber came, then she kissed him on the cheek before leaving. Once again, he was home alone, for possibly two weeks unless dad dropped by, because at this point he saw him more than his own twin brother. With a scoff he went to do some chores, the responsibility now thrusted on to him as the sole resident of the house, it seemed. Fortunately there was nothing he had to do outside because it was such a winter wasteland out there. Too much snow and too cold, he was thankful they paid a guy to do their shoveling, a true testament of his parent's love for him. Mainly he just had to make sure the cats were fed and their litter box in the basement was cleaned, take out the trash if there was any, put away dirty dishes, etcetera. As he made his way to the living room, he briefly wondered if that meant he had to take down the decorations and Christmas tree by himself. Maybe if he was bored enough he'd entertain the thought, but actually doing it was unlikely. It could wait until one of his parents came back, or if he saw Matthew around he could try guilting him into doing it.

Headed back into his room and falling onto his bed, he updated his entries, watched some shows for a few hours before checking his clock, doing a double-take when he saw it was 10 already. No wonder he was getting tired, he mused with a small yawn. As much as he tried to be a night owl, his body screamed he was a lark. It certainly made getting up for school so much easier, he sighed as his body relaxed on the soft cushioning, eyes closing as he slowly drifted.

"_**It's rare you go a day without talking to me anymore." **_Blue eyes snapped open. '_God dammit_,' Alfred huffed as he sat back up.

"Deus," he replied, noticing his bed was in the Cathedral of Causality. Somehow it had extended beyond his closet, now able to follow him wherever he went. He said this before and he'd say it again, he was _actually_ losing his sanity. "What are you up to this time? Starting another war?" He huffed sleepily, a tired gleam in his eye as he stared at the machine god.

"_**The word does need a thrill now and then,"**_ the deity replied. Alfred's gaze flickered toward Tony, who seated himself on the bed beside him, picking up his phone and unlocking it.

"You can't just start trouble because you feel like it," he scolded before furrowing his brows at the alien, wondering why he was scrolling through his entries. "What are you looking for?"

"_**You'd be surprised, I believe our next game will be quite interesting,"**_ Alfred glanced at the god with a sly grin before Tony handed him back his phone.

'_What's the fucking point of this thing anyway?_' he heard the alien ask him telepathically, the only way he could speak.

Alfred shrugged. "I just like writing down the things I see. It's nice having some proof that I exist, you know? It keeps me occupied," he unlocked his phone and began typing a new entry. "See, I'll make one right now."

**January 1 22:02 [My Room]**

**Deus appeared and he's plotting something again. Tony seems interested in my phone for some reason.**

'_So it's just a random-ass diary then?_' Tony's small hands were on his upper thigh as he peeked over his arm to watch him type. For what seemed to be the hundredth time, Alfred found himself in awe over how _real_ it all felt.

"Y-yeah...a random diary with no purpose," he agreed hesitantly. In truth, it meant everything to him, but in the grand scheme of things, it really was nothing. Just a diary in the hands of some teenager who had nothing better to do.

"_**Are you lonely?"**_ Deus' voice shook him out of his thoughts.

A squawk escaped him."What?" The question took him by surprise. "No! I'm fine!" Alfred exclaimed defensively, face heating up, not wanting to admit his weakness out loud. If that day ever came, he'd knew he hit a breaking point.

"_**Relax, child,"**_ he chuckled. "_**I understand, but if you could, would you change yourself?"**_

Alfred scowled, gaze deflecting toward the Cathedral's horizon. Instantly he thought of Matthew, who was so well-liked and could get along with everyone if he ever decided to break out of his comfort zone. His brother with his few close friends who'd always be there for him, who never had to deal with any unnecessary bullshit, whereas he'd been living a chaotic train ride since the day he was _born_. Yeah, maybe he was a bit jealous. "I…" he bit his lip, unwilling to face the deep, sad truth. Instead he let out a defeated sigh, looking up when he heard the deity let out a satisfied hum.

"_**It's settled then, I shall grant you the future," **_his eyes glanced down as he noticed his phone screen brighten, a notification appearing.

"A new message?" He unlocked his phone and checked it out, seeing that the sender was none other than Deus. "What are you planning now?" he laid on his stomach, sending Tony an amused grin.

"_**A game. You'll understand soon enough." **_

Shaking his head, he pulled a pillow closer to him and nuzzled it. "Whatever," he murmured as he relaxed and closed his eyes. "This is all in my head anyway…"

.oOo.

Rushing water woke him up, he rubbed the back of his neck as he lifted his head to focus on his surroundings. The bathroom door was cracked open, he could make out a topless teen brushing his teeth - Matthew. He reached for his glasses and put them on, not that he needed them to the extent of his brother, but they helped with seeing things _really_ far away and he thought they made him look more mature. God, what time was it? 5:56 am? Oh, right. Break was over, meaning today was the first day back to school. Curling into a ball and bringing his phone to his face, he went to where he stored all his entries, his heart skipping a beat once he saw unfamiliar text on the screen.

**January 2 05:58 [My Room]**

**Matthew is back, he's brushing his teeth and acting like he hasn't forgotten about me these past few weeks. No wonder Maple wasn't in my bed. **

He never wrote that.

Confused, he scrolled down, noticing many, _many_ more entries - too many that he couldn't even scroll down to the bottom, hell, he could barely get through February before he gave up. There were pictures he knew he hadn't taken yet, he watched a video he never filmed of the city, and he skimmed over many events and dates that had yet to happen.

What the fuck was happening? Was this a prank?

Matthew fully opened his bedroom door and peered in, eyes wide with concern. "You okay?"

"H-huh?" His shaky hands dropped his phone onto the bed. "Y-yeah! Why what's wrong?"

"You just made a weird sound is all," his twin sighed as he went back to the sink. "Hey, where's mum? I thought she was supposed to be home?"

Alfred couldn't help but shoot his brother a weak glare through the wall. If he had been home more often then he'd know. "Mémé got a little too drunk on New Year's and fell, so mom got a ticket and left to make sure she's okay," he explained.

"Oh, god! I hope she's okay, I'll have to call later to make sure."

He pushed himself off the bed and shooed his brother out of the bathroom, it was his turn to take a shower. Feeling the water soothe him could help clear his thoughts, which he desperately needed to do. Maybe when he got out, the entries would be gone and it was just his imagination acting up again? Ugh, what if he was hallucinating? Weren't those symptoms of schizophrenia? He remembered one time Matthew, the aspiring psychologist, had made a comment on how the mental disorder developed in late teens, so...he _really_ hoped that wasn't the case. They didn't have a family history of it, did they?

When he went back into his bedroom and checked his phone, he noticed the entries hadn't changed at all. Surprised, he also realized that it opened automatically to whichever entries were closest to the actual time.

**January 2 06:15 [Living Room]**

**Matthew is watching the news again. It says that the death toll is at 6, but the most recent victim was found really close to our school.**

Quickly he dressed and slid on his bomber jacket, then ran down the stairs, his blood running cold when he heard the anchorman from the foyer. Peeking into the family room, he noticed his visibly distressed twin. His eyes flashed to the tv screen as it displayed an image of his high school.

What the _fuck_.

**January 2 06:16 [Kitchen]**

**The milk for my cereal is spoiled. Need to set myself a reminder to get more.**

Feeling paranoid, he went to the kitchen and opened his fridge, pulling out the gallon of milk and reading the expiration date. It was only a couple of days away from the date so it shouldn't have been too bad, but when he peeled off the lid and smelled its abhorrent stench he immediately went to dump it into the sink, plugging his nose as he did so.

_What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck- _

Filling the gallon with hot water and dumping it once again, he backed away, clasping his hands together in front of his lips and took a deep breath as he pondered his next move. He was losing it, he was actually losing his mind _oh my god-_

"Al, are you _sure_ you're okay?" Matthew asked as he entered the room, his gaze flickered between the empty milk gallon and his brother. "Why do you look like you're about to rip the sink out?"

'_Because I am!_' "I'm fine, Matthew!" He snapped before grabbing a nearby banana, then checked to see if his phone had predicted that too - it had. His twin stared at him, surprised by the outburst, and raised his hands defensively.

"G-Geez, I'm sorry," he mumbled, hurt, evident by his pained eyes and the way his lips curled downward, but Alfred was too disturbed to care. This was weird, like really, _really_ weird. "I'll be heating up the car then…"

And then he was gone, the front door shut behind him, leaving Alfred by himself to worry about the rest of his day.

.oOo.

"Ah, Alfredo, I notice you seemed really on edge today during class," the golden-blond looked up, noticing Mr. Fernandez watching him with concerned green eyes. "You haven't put down your phone at all either, now that I think about it…"

"O-oh, sorry! Just a family emergency, y'know?" He managed a weak smile. Not entirely a lie, but much better than the truth. His teacher merely sat on his desk as he smiled sympathetically.

"Disculpame, I did not know," placing a hand on his shoulders, he forced Alfred to focus on him. "It is a distraction though, you know you're not supposed to use your phone in class. Normally I let it slide, but today it's like your whole world. I give you warning this time, okay? Because family emergency."

Alfred nodded gratefully. "T-thanks, Mr. FC!" Note to self, be less obvious about his situation or else people will ask questions. He needed to cool down.

"No problema," his Spanish teacher sent him a grin and winked as he stood, patting his back gently. "Now, get to your next class."

Feeling a moment of solace as he was ushered out of the classroom, it was nice to have a small break from staring at his phone and psyching himself out. A few deep breaths and he could get through the rest of the day, go straight home since there was no swim practice, and maybe talk to Deus about all this. Maybe this would be like _Inception_ and he was actually dreaming the whole time. Regardless, he needed to stop worrying about it all.

His eyes caught sight of violet orbs staring at him and he stared back. It was Ivan, brows furrowed with a troubled expression written on his face. Suddenly feeling a deep lunge in his stomach, he bolted to his next class without sparing the teen another look.

Just a few more classes and it'd all be over.

.oOo.

Back in the Cathedral of Causality, his sky blue eyes anxiously flickered from the god to his phone, voice high-pitched as it took every bit of restraint from bursting into hysterics. "W-What's the meaning of all this?"

"_**I told you I gave you the future, did I not?"**_

"Yeah, but you're supposed to be a part of my imagination!" He was desperate as he stared at the figure before him, feeling so miniscule. "None of this should be real!"

"_**Who is to say that imagination and reality aren't mutually exclusive concepts? Is it so hard to believe a god could take residence wherever they want, even if it happens to be in the mind of an innocent child?" **_He didn't even want to begin having a philosophical debate about religion, this was absolutely unfathomable. Yet, today's events proved to him just how wrong the world's perception of divinity really was.

Alfred blinked, shocked. "I-...but why _me_?"

Deus chuckled. "_**I will let time answer that for you, young one. For now, we must discuss the contents of your diary," **_his mechanical hand gestured toward him, he assumed it was to the phone specifically. "_**Despite having the power to tell the future, it's not without its limits. One of which is that your phone and your body have become one. Should your phone break, your future will cease,"**_ he paused for a moment as a pang of realization hit Alfred, hard. "_**In other words, you will die."**_

Collapsing onto his bed, he continued to mull over the conversation in his mind while examining the case around his phone. He remembered how it protected the device from being run over by his dad's car once, and how it had proven its waterproof capabilities multiple times. Touch-phones weren't known for their durability, but at least he invested his money in the right place. As long as he had the casing, he should be fine for the most part.

On the plus side, at least his phone had infinite battery life now. That was something, right?

A phone...that could predict the future...that sounded like something out of a comic book, didn't it? His eyes brightened and his lips curled into a grin as he considered what that meant. With great power comes great responsibility. Maybe this was his chance to be a superhero, to make a badass costume and help people! Perhaps he would be the one to take down their local serial killer, but first he needed to get used to his new tool.

Maybe this wasn't as bad as it seemed.

.oOo.

"I'm glad you're in a good mood today, Al-kun," Kiku observed as they approached his locker. "Lately, you seemed off. I was wondering if grief had gotten to you," the American smiled at his friend's genuine concern as he dialed his combination - a habit he forced himself into due to recent events - only to scowl when he saw a note taped inside.

Oh, no.

"I thought you told him to stop," Kiku scowled as his gaze lingered on the note. "And he broke into your locker? How did he figure out the combination?"

To be honest, Alfred lacked an answer to that. He'd only recently re-familiarized with it and hadn't shared it with a single soul. God, Ivan really was a creep, what the hell? Bothered by his brother's confirmations and his own poor judgement, his expression soured before he unfolded the note and read the contents inside.

'_Do not visit Mr. Fernandez - go straight home._' Alfred huffed. That was eerily specific, and why the hell was he being told not to see his Spanish teacher after hours? Why the hell did Ivan spy on him and eavesdrop on that conversation? This completely violated their personal space policy!

"Strange message," the brunet had peered over his arm and skimmed it himself. "Why do you need to see Mr. Fernandez anyway? I thought you did well in Spanish?" He turned to his friend with a raised brow.

"I told him yesterday I was having some family troubles, so today he suggested I drop by after hours so we can talk about them," Alfred crumpled the note in his hands and strolled to the nearest trash can. "It was nice of him to offer. I think I'll go," he mused spitefully as he tossed it.

Kiku nodded. "Very well, I must get going before my parents worry. Let me know when you get home."

Alfred smiled at him and sent him a small wave. "Yeah, of course. See ya tomorrow."

They parted ways, with the American making his way down the halls to the language wing. Noticing the door to his class was closed, he knocked. Nothing. He turned the handle and peeked his head inside, only to find it empty. Frowning, he entered the room, really hoping that he hadn't wasted his time coming here. Eyes scanning the room, he found a note on Mr. Fernandez's desk with his name hastily written on it.

'_Sorry, something came up! We will have to reschedule._'

Alright, so yeah, waste of time. Maybe he _should_ have heeded Ivan's warning.

_**shhhhhBBBTTT-**_

He jumped with fright at the sound his phone made, a distorted static that was so loud it echoed off the walls and into the hallway. It absolutely terrified him, never once did it make anything like that. Was that even a ringtone he had? Taking deep breaths as he unlocked his phone despite his trembling fingers, he checked to see what caused it to do something like that, hoping it wasn't some sort of virus. No, instead it came from his journal.

**January 3 14:59 [Going Home]**

**The serial killer is chasing me. The abandoned warehouse off the bike trail is my safest bet, maybe I can hide in there until he passes. **

**January 3 15:13 [Abandoned Warehouse]**

**{attachment . jpg}**

**The serial killer corners me. He gets the advantage and kills me with his machete. **

**[DEAD END]**

A chill went down his spine as his breathing became more erratic. There were no more entries, all of the ones from earlier had been erased as his future now ended with a picture of his body hacked into, pale and bleeding on the floor of the warehouse. He wanted to vomit, and nearly did, but a hand covered his mouth and he forced himself to keep it in. Terror began to consume him as it dawned on him that _he was_ _going to die_. The diary hadn't proven itself wrong yet, what reason did he have to doubt its power now? He glanced at the time and choked on a sob.

14:50. _Shit_.

He ran out of the classroom, only to feel strong hands grab the sleeve of his jacket. A scream ripped out of him as he was pulled closer to the other, the fingers tightening their grip and holding him in place. Struggling, his eyes flicked upward, only to freeze in alarm as he saw that it was _Ivan_ of all people.

"You did not listen, solnyshko. You fell right into his trap," he clicked his tongue and frowned, tone akin to a mother scolding a toddler.

"Let go of me, Ivan. _Please_!" Tears were pouring out of him. He needed to get home, he had to leave this place _now_.

"Nyet, you will come with-" Unable to stand it any longer, he slipped his arms out of the sleeves and ran, leaving Ivan alone with his bomber jacket. At the moment, it wasn't a priority of his, he just needed to last the day. That's all he asked for.

Anything to not end up like the version of himself in that picture.

The school was empty, Matthew was gone. Kiku gone. Francis? Gone. His twin had the car, he _always_ had the damn car, and the snow hadn't been too bad so he'd been either carpooling or walking home, but his diary told him the bike path was trouble. But it was the quickest way home. No wait, it told him the _abandoned warehouse_ was trouble. There was a chance, he just had to make sure he didn't get cornered.

Pushing through the back doors of the building and running down the dirt trail through the forest that led to the bike path, he felt a sense of relief as he made it there. Desperately wishing he hadn't stored his bike, the cold air hurt his lungs as he ran, but he had to go home. Home was safe. The killer wouldn't attack him there.

The distorted static startled him once again. Not wasting time, he went to check the most recent entry.

**January 3 14:59 [Going Home]**

**The serial killer is chasing me. The abandoned warehouse off the bike trail is not a good idea, I should try to lose him through the woods.**

**January 3 15:22 [Woods]**

**{attachment . jpg}**

**The serial killer gets the upper hand after ****I trip over some roots and get hurt****. He slashes my throat with a machete.**

**[DEAD END]**

Okay, so running home only delayed his death about ten minutes. Was it really set in stone? Was there really nothing he could do to avoid this?

_CRACK-_

His eyes snapped toward the sound. Between the branches and in the distance, quite visible since winter had stripped the trees of their leaves, he watched in silent terror as a masked man wearing a gas mask and dark trench coat slowly advanced toward him, one hand wielding a large machete, and another a small device.

Was that...a _phone_?

Not thinking about it anymore than necessary, he continued running down the bike path until he felt the force of something push him into a nearby snow bank. Disoriented for a moment before getting his bearings, he glanced up and saw none other than Ivan staring down at him, expression calm as he extended an arm. "You will not lose him that way, come follow me."

Inwardly cursing because he had no other options, he took the Russian's hand and allowed himself to be hauled up and dragged into the forest. Everything became a blur as he heard a ringing in his ears, his face flushed and stinging from the wind as he wheezed painfully. It was too cold, his lungs were in _agony_. He was nauseous, especially now that he was coming to terms with the fact that he was going to die soon and only had Ivan to rely on.

They finally stopped, and violet eyes focused on him, studying his face for a moment before he felt a thumb stroke his cheek. Alfred found himself resting against a tree trunk to catch his breath, too focused on his breathing to think much of Ivan taking his bomber jacket out of his rucksack and helping him put it on. However, he found himself surprised to see the other teen remove his scarf and wrap it carefully around his neck, it was then for the first time he caught a glimpse of the bandages concealed beneath Ivan's collar. "We cannot stay here for long, we must keep moving, dorogoy."

"I-Iv…" Coughing, he shook his head. "I can't," he croaked, struggling to speak - his throat dry and burning.

"Nyet, you _will_. You will not die," he felt lips press to his own, a warm breath entering his body. Despite everything they were going through, Alfred couldn't bring himself to push the other away - the heat helped lessen the pain. Shuddering when Ivan released the kiss, he felt the taller teen tug on his arm. "I said I would keep you safe, da? That I would protect you?"

Alfred responded with a slow, defeated nod, letting Ivan take the lead as he stepped in the footprints the other was making. They were in the middle of the forest, he had no idea where, but the Russian seemed to as he read through the contents of his own flip phone. "H-he's g-gonna find us...I-Ivan the footprints…"

"That is point," Ivan answered, continuing to march forward without falter. As though sensing his partner's unwillingness to follow, he continued. "If you keep running away, he will keep pursuing. Home is not the sanctuary you think it is, it's false prison." Shaking his head, Ivan sent him a determined glance. "No, we must finish him now if you are to survive this."

Blue eyes glanced past Ivan, noticing the warehouse he had tried to avoid. The old brick building had been some sort of factory in the early 1900s, now long abandoned. Windows were boarded up, graffiti decorated the walls, and the interior was a decrepit mess. It had been a scary place to explore with his brother, Francis, and Jeanne when they were all younger, but now it was his only refuge in getting through the rest of the day. Ivan showed him a small opening in the wall - a window that led into the basement. Giving the other an unsure glance, Alfred decided he had no better options and slipped in with the Russian following right after.

The place was a dark and haunting, with broken glass and strips of wood beneath his feet. Ivan made no hesitance in turning on his phone's flashlight and grabbing his hand, leading him to a staircase. With shaky breaths, Alfred was relieved that at least he was much warmer than he had been now that he was shielded from the wind, he could finally breathe properly.

"We are fortunate this place is bit of maze, it will be some time before he finds us," Ivan flashed the light toward Alfred. "Come, I have plan," allowing himself be hauled up the stairs, he noted that they went up at least three stories. At least now it wasn't so dark, there were enough cracks in the moldy plywood that they no longer needed to rely on Ivan's flashlight. "My diary says we have six minutes until he finds us."

"Wait, y-you have one too?" He asked, bewildered, having previously thought he was the only one. Ivan hummed in agreement as he flipped open his phone and pulled up his journal, raising it close enough to Alfred's face so he could read it. Identifying a common theme between all the entries, he trembled. "W-why are they all about me?"

"This is my Alfred Diary, it tells me everything about you in ten minute intervals," he stated proudly while the golden-blond paled.

"Y-you've really been s-stalking me?" Alfred squeaked. "W-what's wrong with y-you?"

"This is proof of my love and devotion for you," though the crunching of snow outside led him to cover Alfred's mouth as a whimper threatened to escape him. Ivan lowered his voice, "He is also diary user, we call him Third."

"T-third? I don't understand...how many of us are there?" He whispered back when Ivan lowered his hand.

"Twelve in total. We are in a game, you see," he smiled a bit too widely at that.

"I don't- ... but I thought- " Ivan stole another kiss from him, effectively shutting him up. Alfred's fingers brushed against his lips when they parted, blue eyes suspiciously watching as Ivan gestured for him to follow, slowly, to avoid making too much sound. The wood crept beneath his feet and he sucked in a breath as Ivan made him crouch and hide behind some rusted metal contraption.

Ivan pointed up to where a slightly cracked, circular mirror hung on the wall at a strange angle. "You see that?" Alfred nodded once. "From your spot, he can not see you, but you will see him. When he takes out his phone, I will attack and distract him, but you need to finish the job," he grinned cheerfully. "It will be a test of our love, da?"

"Wait, I'm doing wha-" Ivan quickly pressed a finger to his lips to shush him before stealthily moving out of his sight within the time he blinked. Alfred had to calm his breathing down, shocked to see how quick and easy it was for the Russian to slip into the shadows. He had to remember to make a mental note of that amongst _many_ other things. The sound of footsteps made his heart beat loudly in his ears and his body tensed, his gaze immediately locked onto the mirror, waiting for his signal on whatever the hell it was he needed to do. God, he was shaking - he couldn't do this.

Focused on the looking glass, he held in a breath when he saw the serial killer grow closer. "_Joder_," Third cursed in a low growl as he paused to pull something out of his pocket. Alfred blinked and narrowed his eyes as he tried to determine where he recognized that voice from only to have a sudden flash in the mirror divert his attention. Noticing it was Ivan, the Russian whacked something out of Third's hand with a metal pipe while he was distracted, with said object skidding along the floor and out of the mirror's range. Cautiously peeking around the machine to see that it had been a phone, Alfred panicked as it unfortunately landed close to where Ivan was dodging the Third's machete attacks. What the hell was he expected to do?

'_Should your phone break, your future will cease,' _That's what Deus said, if his phone died, then he died. If other people had diaries of their own, the same logic had to apply. Taking in a deep breath, he knew he had no other choice than to do this. Either he died a hero or he died a coward, right? Right...

Concentrating on the prize, he sprung toward the device, scooping it up as he rolled onto his side. It was a flip phone, just like Ivan's, he noted as he used his elbow to push off the ground and sit up on his knees. Glancing at Third, he was taken aback when he was met with daunting green eyes before they darted to their lifeline within his grasp. The killer raised his machete to block a swing from the Russian before pushing back against the other, charging toward him with his weapon raised high-

_SNAP. _

Eyes clamped shut with half a phone in each hand, Alfred quaked as he waited for the oncoming attack, but the instant deathblow from having his skull split in two never followed. Risking a peek, he noticed that the serial killer had been frozen in place. Ivan swooped to his side and rested a hand on his waist, his intrigued violet orbs fixed on the murderer as he tried to comprehend what was happening.

A hole in the center of Third's chest appeared, twisting like a vortex that began sucking him in, his body contorting and convulsing in a way that defied reality, sickening cracks and screams ricocheting off the walls as Alfred could only watch in pure horror, covering his mouth and mentally cursing himself for his inability to look away.

And then he disappeared, all trace of him wiped from existence.

This time Alfred did vomit, shivering, his hands dropped the phone onto the ground as he heaved. So that's what would happen to him if he broke his phone? He'd rather just take a coup de grace. Realizing that Ivan had been massaging his back as he regurgitated his lunch, he could only stare at the other blankly as he noticed a bright smile on his face.

"You did so well, my love! Though I admit, I did expect a little more from his death..."

A wave of dizziness overcame him and he passed out.

.oOo.

Awaking in his room tucked in bed, for a moment he wondered if everything had been a dream. However, once he noticed he was wearing his comfortable pajamas beneath a familiar beige coat, he quickly understood that was not the case. The scarf was gone, he had felt for it, but all he could wonder right now was _how the hell did he get home_ and _who the hell dressed him for bed_. Something told him he wouldn't like the answer to either of those questions.

"Deus!" he yelled as he threw the blankets off and bounced to his feet, watching as the environment around him became the Cathedral, the god presented before him. "Why didn't you tell me there were others with diaries?"

"_**You didn't honestly believe you were the only one bestowed with such great power, did you? The game has only just begun, and now you stand as the first champion."**_

"H-huh?" Alfred took a step back as the environment changed once again. Now he was on a small, circular platform with 11 other platforms circumferencing the gargantuan, levitating deity at the center. There were other people standing on them, cloaked in shadows that concealed their faces, but the outline of their forms was apparent, serving as the only visual clue to their true identities. From his right, his gaze moved counter-clockwise until they reached the podium directly to his left.

Ivan Braginsky. And after him, the empty spot marked 'Dead End'? It had to be Third's.

"_**Now that everyone is gathered, we can officially discuss the rules of the survival game," **_Alfred's breath hitched. _Survival_ game? "_**Let us first elaborate on your main tool for this game: your diaries,"**_ he noticed the other contenders pull theirs out, he thought it'd be best to mimic them as best he could. "_**You each have a glimpse into the future, the total being 120 days." **_

"Excuse me," an adult male raised his hand. In fact, looking around, most of the contenders seemed to be older than he was. "I've witnessed my diary rewrite itself and I wish to know the exact reasoning for why such a thing occurs."

"_**Yes, as a response to your actions and the actions of others, the future is subject to change. It is meant to reflect the alternative timelines selected, your powers of foresight making this a possibility."**_ Deus paused for a moment, observing the reactions of everyone involved. "_**Though keep in mind that the power is shared among each of you, meaning you all have the ability to manipulate each other's fate. The purpose of the game is to use this ability to discover each other's identities, change their fates, and as a result become the last person standing. The person that succeeds this will become my champion, taking the mantle of God of Time and Space.**_" Alfred's brows shot up in surprise, not sure if he could even believe this was actually happening. "_**Your identities are valuable, once you receive a Dead End, you must martial all your resources to undo it with no guarantee of success."**_ Deus appeared before Ivan, his massive head eyeing the human who could very easily fit in the narrow space between his eyes. "_**Second, you seem to be a lot different than I remembered, much more adept. However, your diary is nothing special compared to others."**_ A small, surprised gasp escaped Alfred as the god materialized in front of him. "_**First, you were able to avoid your fate that had been chiseled in stone. You were meant to die by Third's hand, yet you managed to turn the odds in your favor. Whether through luck or cunning, it is no matter of mine. As it stands, it is clear to me you have the best advantage, therefore I'm placing my bet on you." **_

Many other contenders scoffed and growled, and he knew their resentment was directed toward him. Yet Alfred averted his eyes timidly, because he wasn't alive because of cunning _or_ luck. He was here because of...Ivan, who was staring back at him, a sweet, secretive smile gracing his lips.

"_**11 of you remain, yet only one of you shall become my successor. With this said and done, I now officially leave the rest up to you!" **_With a snap of his fingers, Deus vanished - leaving the remaining contenders alone with the opportunity to scrutinize their competition. Unfortunately, it seemed like all their attention seemed to be focused solely on _him_.

"A hacker, I presume? I'll put you in your place," The man on his other side, Twelfth, said as he adjusted his glasses before taking his leave.

"What an interesting challenge presented to me, I always did love a thrill," the man in Tenth's place gave him a wolfish grin that remained as he vanished.

Alfred shook his head frantically at that. "W-what? No, I-"

"I won't let anybody stand in my way, especially not _you_, favored one," Eleventh's condescending sneer was enough to shut him up. Whoever this guy was, he radiated power, and it hung in the air even when he was gone.

"Aww, look how he trembles. The poor thing…" Before he could get a good look, Seventh had left.

"You won't last long," a girl, Fifth - perhaps the one person who seemed younger than him, promised. She didn't state it as a threat, it was a _fact_.

"Take pity on the boy," Eighth chided the others. Another person Alfred just barely got a glimpse of, only this one he had trouble discerning their gender.

"Ha, you're only a child? Taking you out shouldn't be hard," Ninth, a woman, teased as she waved him off - her platform now empty.

"Stay alive, _I_ want to be the one that kills you," Sixth's menacing tone alone was enough to make him shiver, he felt vulnerable even after he departed.

That left two others.

"Don't worry, kid. I'll be looking out for you," Fourth promised, sending him a salute as a goodbye.

Completely devastated, he fell to his knees, barely comprehending what just transpired. There was no way he could go against a bunch of capable adults, he was a teenager, whose only concerns were sports and homework...how was he expected to compete with _them_? Expected to _kill_? And now Deus called him out as the favorite, so instead of going after each other, there was a manhunt on _his_ head. He was on the verge of breaking down and crying.

"Solnyshko?" Alfred tensed, slowly turning his head toward the Russian, heart dropping at the sight before him. There was something extremely disturbing about the deranged, lovesick grin that stretched across his face, a fervent blush on his cheeks as he hugged himself tightly, purple eyes bright, almost glowing, clouded with adoration as though the American were the sole object of his desires. "Don't worry, it'll be okay...I promised I'd protect you... _and this time I'll kill anyone who tries to take you away from me_."

* * *

_A/N: There, finally the story's summary applies. I'm done, we can all go home now. The end. Just kidding, I wish everything was already written, but I feel like I'm at the point I've read/caught up to everyone else's fics so I had no choice but to write my own story. This is where desperation brings me. It makes me work and force myself to get creative. My brain hurts. _

_Also, America's fear of being alone and constant need for attention is something brought up many times in the comics. Like when he cries for England not to leave him because he'll be all alone, there's a comic where he convinces himself he's not lonely. There's a good analysis on it by this person on Tumblr called "ellawritesficssometimes" if you wanna check it out amongst many others, but given how attention-seeking his personality is, it makes total sense. Also America's jealousy toward Canada is a thing. I notice I like to take a lot of things straight out of the comics lol I guess it's just my way of trying to tie in the two universes together. _

_I'm hoping some reviewers will comment on which character they think is which diary holder, I'm just really curious to see what people come up with. I won't confirm or deny anything, but who knows, someone could suggest a character I didn't think of that was so much better than what I was planning. Most are set in stone, but there's a couple I've been bouncing back and forth between my options. You guys don't have to, but I would appreciate it as it helps me moving forward. _

_Thanks for reading!_


	6. Dancing With the Devil

_A/N: So, TRIGGER WARNING for anyone who gets anxious during school-shooter drills in school or is just super uncomfortable regarding the topic in general. This was EXTREMELY hard to write personally, but it's something I'm implementing from Mirai Nikki itself which is why it was included. I made it a lot softer than it was in the anime, I just couldn't bring myself to replicate the scenario to the extent shown there. _

* * *

**Chapter 6: Dancing With the Devil**

Panting and sweating, blue eyes snapped open as he awoke with a start. The serial killer, his own corpse, and Ivan's petrifying confession were all still fresh in his mind as he hugged himself tightly, hoping to mimic some sense of comfort once he realized that those events were more than just nightmares, they were his reality. Had he really almost died yesterday? It was so traumatic, his eyes stung with tears as he thought about Emma and her last moments. Is that what she went through? Did the serial killer play cat and mouse with her too? She deserved so much better, nobody should ever have to experience that kind of torment.

Dissociating, body moving on autopilot, the rest of Alfred's morning was a blur. As he got ready for school, he'd occasionally check his phone and read the spam Ivan bombarded him with. '_Honey, how are you? Did you sleep well, my love? I love you!_' Eventually he started disregarding the notifications altogether, a feeling of dread consuming him once he became aware of the fact he'd have to see the other at school. It was probably a good idea to take the day off, but by the time that thought came to him he was already at his locker, greeted by one of the gifts he returned back in November. _Fuck_.

Entering homeroom, Alfred could only blink dumbly as he slowly made his way toward his desk, brows furrowed in confusion. Ivan was in Kiku's seat, right beside the one he claimed the beginning of the school year. Ignoring the other because it was much better than acknowledging the truth, he sat in his chair and propped his backpack onto his knees before pausing. He never did the homework last night - _shit_, but fortunately his diary had the answers he needed for when he'd be called on later in class.

"You should refrain from relying on that," Ivan warned, his voice low as violet irises flickered to his phone.

Biting his lip and avoiding eye contact, Alfred tucked his diary into his jacket pocket, only glancing up when he noticed Kiku enter the classroom and advance toward them, a glare directed at the Russian occupying his seat. "This is my desk," he stated calmly, though Alfred caught an edge of frustration in his tone.

Ivan responded with a smile, yet it was anything but friendly. "There are plenty of others, but from now on, this is one _mine_," he said with a chilled sweetness. Kiku shivered before turning to Alfred for support. Leg bouncing up and down anxiously, the American couldn't even look at him, instead opting to stare at a squirrel as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. How could he go against Ivan, who despite freaking him out, was the only reason he was _alive_? He owed the guy big time, and though he wasn't sure _how_ they could go back to the way things were, he figured he might as well give the older teen what he wanted. After all, he was also a part of this survival game. If he pissed Ivan off, what stopped the other from going after him? That was something he couldn't risk, especially when the Russian's diary was solely about him and predicted his every move. It was such a terrifying revelation that his life was literally in the other's hands.

With a relenting sigh, not being the one to cause conflict, Kiku took a seat near the front of the room, though not without sending Alfred a hurt glance that made his heart shrivel with guilt.

Time today seemed to move slower than usual, Alfred's gaze was constantly drawn toward Ivan, who watched him through the corner of his eyes with a shy smile, a prominent blush on his cheeks as he twiddled his thumbs like some anime girl in the presence of her crush. It was like now that the game started, Ivan didn't have to hold back anymore, he could do whatever he wanted with no reservations. Not for the first time did Alfred feel uncomfortable thinking about how he'd be at his stalker's mercy for the next few months. Letting out a heavy huff when the bell rang, he gathered his things and attempted to dart out of the room, only to feel Ivan's hand find his own and pull him back, entwining their fingers as he did so.

"Are you cold? You have been shivering all morning! You have my coat don't you? You should put it on," he suggested like a concerned boyfriend. Alfred made a face in response, not even wanting to continue that train of thought.

"N-no, it's just nerves…" Shaking out of Ivan's grip, he reached into his backpack and pulled out a poorly folded coat before handing it back to the other. "Here, t-thanks."

Ivan pressed it against his nose and inhaled, a satisfied sigh escaping him when he finished. Alfred could only stare at the other incredulously, mouth agape, completely stuck on how to react. "Now it smells just like you! Spasibo, dorogoy," Ivan smiled affectionately, a yearning glint in his eyes.

Unfortunately only a high-pitched, uncomfortable laugh could escape him. "I-I need to get to class."

"Of course," Ivan nodded before bending down and planting a kiss on his temple. "I will see you later!"

Not confirming or denying that fact, especially considering they shared three classes, gym, _and_ lunch together, he took his leave as quickly as possible, turning a blind eye to Kiku's shocked expression, having witnessed the kiss as he waited for Alfred in the hall. This didn't involve his best friend, he didn't want anybody he cared about getting sucked into this mess he found himself in.

None of this would've happened if he never went back to Deus. This was all on him.

.oOo.

There was a substitute in AP Spanish, a pretty woman with long, wavy brown hair and friendly green eyes. Apparently Mr. Fernandez never alerted the school of his absence, so their temporary teacher seemed a bit frazzled by the sudden call-in; she decided after roll call that since she had no instruction, they would instead watch a fun movie. About halfway through the class, his exhaustion from the day and night before was beginning to take its toll on him. His eyelids drooped, but a sudden tap on his shoulder immediately jolted him into a defensive state.

"Sorry. Your name is Alfred, right?" She asked him quietly. Realizing he was safe, Alfred relaxed and responded with a timid nod. "I found this note on the desk," placing it before him, her green eyes gleamed as he tensed with recognition. "It seemed important so I thought I'd ask, just in case you hadn't seen it."

"T-thanks," he forced a smile and she nodded in turn before returning to her seat.

Carlos, who Alfred hadn't been on good terms with since elementary school, turned his head to see what his rival was up to, only for their eyes to meet. A brief flash of fear was caught in blue eyes before he glared at the other warningly, signaling him to stay out of his fucking business. Letting out a muted scoff, Carlos rolled his eyes and resumed watching the movie as Alfred spent the remainder of class mulling over what had become of him. It had only been two days since the game started and already it was breaking through his psyche. How the hell was he expected to last the next 118? It was distressing to think about.

His next class was World History, where Ivan remained glued to his side like an enamored puppy then trailed behind him all the way to lunch. When he went toward his usual spot, Ivan took his hand and led him away, "Nyet, we can find empty classroom and sit together!"

"But-" his eyes roamed over his friends and twin waiting in line. Matthew and Kiku both gawked, stunned into silence as they watched him be dragged out of the cafeteria. Not only that, but the other students stared at him, whispering to each other about how _weird_ he'd been acting and wondering why he was hanging out with Braginsky again after believing he'd finally given in to peer pressure. Pursing his lips and casting his gaze downward, he attempted to tune them out.

"You don't want them to ask you questions, right sunflower? If you sit with them, they will definitely pry." Alfred frowned, but relented, knowing that the other had a point. Ivan probably read that in his diary and by now he knew better than to ask.

The taller teen found a suitable classroom and enthusiastically pulled him in. Hand slipping from the other's, Alfred sat down at a nearby desk and put his lunch bag on the table. Taking out his simple PB & J and a can of coke, he wearily watched Ivan turn the seat in front of him and sit down, elbows propped on the shared desk while his chin rested on fingers that were laced together. A content smile was on his face as remained transfixed on the younger American, who could only smile awkwardly as a flustered blush dusted his cheeks.

Tensing with discomfort, Alfred tore off a piece of his sandwich. "Don't you have anything to eat?"

"Would you like to feed me?" Ivan asked innocently, though his craned forward much too eagerly.

"W-what? No!" The American ignored the other's pout and plopped the piece into his mouth. It wasn't the first time Ivan said that line, he assumed the other had been teasing before, but now he was well aware that was not the case. It made him wonder how many other comments he brushed off as nothing. Was he really that oblivious?

"Let me see," Ivan picked up his rucksack and placed it on his lap, rummaging around for a brown paper bag he pulled out. One by one he pulled out the contents: an apple, a water bottle from the lunchroom, a thermos he opened which smelled _heavenly_. "Ah, you like?"

Alfred scowled and shook his head despite the gnawing in his stomach. "N-no, it's fine. I'm good."

"I tried new recipe I found online for Shchi, but I need a second opinion. Would you help me?"

_Shit_, Ivan just knew how to break down his guard. "I mean...if you insist," he shrugged, trying to play it off cool. Damn, the steam blowing off it was going straight into his nose and making his mouth water - it was so much better than his dinky little sandwich. Why was he such a bitch for food? No wonder he got bullied in middle school for being fat.

Ivan seemed happy with his response and pulled out a spoon, dipping it in the liquid before bringing it to his own lips and blowing gently. Alfred flushed when he saw the Russian reach across the table with the head of the utensil pointed toward his face. "Be honest, please! I want it to be perfect," he said earnestly, shyly giving him an imploring look. Reluctantly, Alfred inched forward and opened his mouth, eyes quickly glancing at Ivan before taking a bite of its contents.

'_Woah, that was _amazing_,'_ he moaned, melting as he slowly pulled away. Compliments to the chef.

"Y-you like?" Ivan asked, a profound blush on his face as Alfred responded with a nod.

"Yes, you did a great job," he allowed himself to relax a little more. Sure, he was stuck in a room with his stalker, but said stalker had once been his friend, saved him from certain death, and gave him delicious food. Maybe he was being too hard on the guy.

"I'm glad!" The Russian replied before sinking the spoon back into the broth and taking a bite himself, letting out a pleased hum. A third time he dipped, once again blowing and bringing it to Alfred's lips, "Would you like another taste?"

Lips quirking into a frown, Alfred wondered if he had just fallen into another slippery slope.

.oOo.

Wandering through the halls of the building, Elisabeth carefully maneuvered her way out of the security officer's line of sight. '_Idiot_,' she smirked as she slipped into a music room and waited for him to pass. Today was proving to be a good day so far, she had successfully managed to adopt the role of a substitute teacher to observe the boy she now confirmed to be First and finally put all those weeks tracking the local serial killer to good use. With a sardonic chuckle, she mused over how typical it was of Deus to put someone like _Third_ in the game. And if Sixth was who she strongly suspected he was? Well, that would just be icing on the cake. Only a god playing with the lives of mortals could be so heartless, involving an innocent child like First was just one of his many transgressions against mankind.

As she examined a picture of the marching band on the wall, a familiar blond catching her eye, she found it interesting how one thing led to another. Originally she had been hunting Third for a bounty and learned head-on what he was capable of after barely escaping a confrontation the first day of the game. That was the last time she would _ever_ underestimate a target. How the hell was a school teacher able to acquire all that equipment and body armor? Whatever the means, none of it mattered now that it was all over. First, a mere high schooler, was somehow able to defeat him when _she_ could not. That kid had to have one hell of an advantage.

It wasn't like she was going to kill him now that she knew his identity, she just wanted to know how dangerous he was. The way Deus made it sound, the boy was a force to be reckoned with, but he seemed to be a normal 17-year-old kid. Popular, attractive, privileged, she couldn't find anything that stated otherwise, but appearances were deceiving. She wouldn't be able to rest easy until she knew for sure what she was up against.

As for Second, she had yet to discover his identity. Deus had said that even though he proved himself capable, his diary was weak compared to everyone else, and then implied how First had one of the more powerful ones. Considering how they seemed to have allied themselves to take down Third, it was safe to assume they knew each other. If she trailed the First, she expected to find Second, and only then would she get a real sense of their strength. From there, she could decide on how to deal with them, but for now…

Pulling out her tracfone and checking her next course of action, it prophesied that her best chance for an escape would be to wait until the officer completed his round, then she'd have a four minute time window to shuffle into gym where she could continue her reconnaissance. Easy enough.

Hearing a knob turn and door pushed open, she crouched and ducked behind a bass drum, eyes observing as a teacher shut the door to his office. Dressed in a long, royal blue peacoat, her gaze studied the attractive brunet. Adorned with a set of violet eyes concealed by spectacles, he strode toward the sleek, grand piano with music sheets in hand, completely unaware of his surroundings. Seating himself, he placed the sheets on the stand and stretched his fingers before letting them flutter around the keyboard with an awe-inducing elegance.

A difficult life had denied her many things, among those was music. Stuck in her predicament with no choice but to listen, she was surprised to find herself enthralled. There were definitely worse situations she could be in, this was by far one of the more pleasant encounters in her day-to-day business.

Suddenly her phone went off, a distorted sound that caused the professor to stop with a frustrated press against the keys before retracting his hands. Cursing as she skimmed through her rewritten notes, she realized the distraction resulted in a missed opportunity. That meant she would have to wait for the next opening which wouldn't be for quite a while, there went precious time she could've spent following First.

"Who are you?" The man stood up and approached her. "I haven't seen you before! What purpose do you have in my class?" Blinking, she made a brief mental note that he was much more attractive up close.

"Sorry, it's just my first time as a substitute!" She fell into her persona easily as she straightened out. "I was wandering the halls when I heard your beautiful music, I just had to know who was playing!"

Flustered by the compliment, a smile came across his face. "Why, thank you. It's just some songs for the school play I'm practicing," his hands clasped together as he half-turned toward the piano.

Charming as the man was, she knew an opportunity when she saw one. "Oh, interesting! What else do you teach?"

"Hm?" he blinked, as though perplexed that someone wanted to have a serious conversation with him regarding music. "Well, I do Orchestra. Concert, Jazz, and Marching Band, I teach-"

"Marching Band?" She asked, dumbing herself down for the sake of information.

"Ah, I assumed you were European as well. Well, Americans like to have performances during the half-time show of their _football_ games," saying the word always felt weird on his tongue, so he took a moment to recover. "But we also do competitions and parades, every two years we go to Florida and perform at _Disney_ and _Universal_," he beamed, and Elisabeth smiled at him.

"How fun! Do you have any pictures?"

"I believe I do," Going back toward his office, he gestured for her to follow. He offered his chair to her and she sat patiently as he went through the folders on his computer, selected the one for last year's trip, and then expanded it on the screen.

Using the arrow keys, Elisabeth browsed through the images, pausing when she noticed the energetic golden-blond in an image with someone who looked very similar, an annoyed glare cast to the twin attempting to give him bunny ears with Cinderella's castle right behind them. "These two seem to be having fun," she joked.

"Yes, those are my students Alfred and Matthew. The twins," he said with a nod. "Quite promising students, but Alfred _loves_ to be the star in everything he gets his hands on."

If she couldn't pursue First herself, word of mouth would have to do for the time being. Elisabeth grinned, leaning toward the instructor with attentive ears. "_Oh_?"

.oOo.

AP Physics carried on with Alfred focused on his work, paying no heed to the Russian who seemed determined to have him sit on his lap as he worked through various equations. What were they? Joined at the hip? Just because they shared a lab table, that did _not_ mean their seats had to be touching. Releasing a deep exhale once the bell rang, he held his hand out for Ivan to take, knowing already that no matter what he did, the other would wind up with it anyway - he might as well make it on his own terms. Eyes brightening with joy, Ivan interlaced their fingers before walking him to gym, the action garnering even more stares and gasps. Alfred supposed that to outside eyes it must've been pretty odd seeing them so affectionate to each other after almost two months of tension between them. Hell, even _he_ was still struggling to comprehend what was going on, at this point he was just going with the flow since Ivan seemed to know what he was doing. It sucked feeling like such a scared child in desperate need of an adult, but he needed time to think of a better long-term plan. As much as he hated relying on Ivan, he'd be dead without him. It'd have to do for now.

They made it to the boy's locker room where Ivan left him alone to change in a restroom stall, a habit he was already accustomed to. From their time as friends, he recalled trying to reassure the other of his good looks, hoping it would make him more confident. It wasn't an unknown fact that Ivan was handsome, a few girls he talked to had been attracted to the exotic Russian only to be put off by his disinterested, curt attitude. Not that he ever admitted it to the other, and no way in hell would he now, but even _he_ had the hots for the other before all this creepy shit hit the fan. Fuck, even today he had to stop himself multiple times from falling for Ivan's charms.

Briefly he wondered if Ivan's poor self-image had anything to do with bandages on his neck, the ones he saw after he removed his scarf. Did the other have a scar he was embarrassed by? But they were completely natural, Alfred had his fair share from being the stupid, thrill-seeking child that he was. If only his past self could see what kind of trouble he got himself into now…

"Waiting for your boyfriend, Al?" Groaning, he rolled his eyes as a few guys puckered their lips and smacked them together.

"He's not my-"

"Not what we heard," one of his peers leered at him. Alfred just sent them all a hard glare before putting on his gym shirt, not giving them the satisfaction of seeing his reaction. Earlier he was thinking he'd do basketball as his activity, but if this was the sort of behavior he'd have to put up with then he wouldn't even bother. Maybe he'd just go to the weight room instead, that way if someone approached him he could just put on his earbuds and drown them out.

Hearing a distant boom, he blinked as the room shook and the light flickered shortly after. Eyes wide, he turned to the guys who had just been teasing him only to have his own expression mirrored in theirs. Had there been a gas leak or something?

His phone startled him once again with its distorted screech. Rushing to open it, he paused as an announcement on the loudspeaker interrupted him. "_We are entering a lockdown, this is not a drill! I repeat, this is not a-_!" Gunshots were heard before the line went dead. There was a moment of silence before suddenly everything went to chaos.

Ivan emerged from the bathroom, hand immediately snatching his wrist and pulling. "We need to leave! Now!" The Russian forced them against the flow of students rushing toward the back of the locker room as teachers barked orders and tried to calm everyone despite their own fears for the worst.

"What?" Alfred squeaked, wincing as he squeezed between two students. "We can't leave in a lockdown, we're supposed to-"

"Look at your phone," the silvery-blond ordered, and Alfred listened, unlocking his phone as they ran to check his entries only for his eyes to be focused on one thing.

**[DEAD END]**

"A-another one?" He gasped breathlessly. In the two days since the game started, he was already going through his second dead end. Was this going to become routine? He couldn't be expected to fight for survival every day of his life! Ignoring the teachers yelling at them both to come back, Ivan led him to through the gymnasium and into the hall rather than the doors that led outside. "S-shouldn't we be _leaving_ this place?"

"Nyet, snipers," Ivan responded, coming to a halt and peeking around a corner. "They have sights on all exists. My diary says if we go outside, you will definitely be shot. These men are no joke," the taller teen crouched and led him down the science wing.

"How do they know I'm diary owner?" Alfred hissed. "Am I wearing a huge target on me or something?"

"Ah…" Ivan spared him a pained glance as he bit his lip. "Is strange and cruel that Deus would call you out...the people in this game are quite capable, dorogoy. Armed with resources we lack. In that regard, we are outmatched," he admitted, noting the way Alfred paled. "However, in compensation, your diary is one of strongest and where it has blindspot, mine will protect you. Together we make formidable team, which is why they are threatened by you. You were bet on for reason, my love."

"How do you know so much about everything...?" the younger teen asked in a low tone, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Weren't he and Ivan supposed to be in the same boat? They were both just regular teenagers in school, not shady adults.

"I have been busy," Ivan admitted as he led him to his own locker and began unlocking it.

"But the game only just started," Alfred whispered, pulling out his phone to see various texts from Matthew and Kiku asking if he was okay. At least they were fine, he let out a sigh of relief.

"You are not the only one Deus talks to, though I do believe you are the one he is most fond of," he opened his locker door and reached in. "In our private talks, I grew suspicious of game he mentioned, as I am sure the others," Alfred's eyes widened as he watched the Russian take out a magnum revolver. How the _fuck_ did he even smuggle that in? "I ask questions, I got vague answers, and then put it together." Well, that's another thing Ivan had that Alfred seemed to lack. Common sense. _Awareness_. Being able to pick up on verbal cues. Deus had mentioned the game to him before, but since he thought everything was his imagination, he never felt the need to ask. Why was he so hopelessly _naive_? Taking his hand, Ivan uttered a quick, "Come," as he tugged.

It was so quiet in the building, and he knew that was because of the lockdown. Students would be in the back of their classrooms huddled into the corner. The doors were most likely locked, assuming the teachers did their job properly. Here in the open space, they were quite vulnerable.

Ivan brought them to the bathroom - _their_ bathroom. The one he found the silvery-blond having a mental breakdown in, where he convinced the poor guy he needed help before bringing him home. It brought back memories of seeing the Russian so scared and broken, yet now he was hardened like a veteran of war.

Alfred found himself pushed into a stall on the far end of the room with Ivan following after, effectively making the space too crowded for comfort. Did he like having an unclean toilet beside him? _Hell no_. Ivan turned to him and nodded toward the toilet. "Get up there."

Giving the object a disgusted sneer, he followed with instruction anyway, instantly reminded of that scene in _Monsters Inc._ where the main characters were hiding from Randall. Never once did he think reality would imitate art, but as life would have it, there he was - squatting over a toilet that hadn't been cleaned in god-knows-how-long while Ivan pressed himself into the corner as best he could. The door was left slightly ajar as violet eyes remained fixed on a mirror that gave a perfect view of the entryway in case anyone wanted to turn the corner - _oh_.

Once again, Alfred found himself very fortunate Ivan was on his side.

.oOo.

Matthew cursed as he sent his brother another text, frustrated that he hadn't received anything back. He knew Alfred was in gym, but that was way too close to where the explosion occurred. How was he supposed to make sure his brother was okay if the idiot didn't answer him? At least Carlos did! Kiku seemed to have the same idea, a panicked expression on his face as he focused on his messages, just waiting for _something_.

And then in the distance, they heard more gunshots. A few students in class gasped and cried, only for their AP Psych teacher to give her students a worried look that did nothing to dissuade their terror. The two boys exchanged a glance with each other, just _praying_ the police would arrive soon enough.

.oOo.

Elisabeth watched as the handle broke off and a man charged in. She hid behind the door, eyeing him studiously as the door slowly closed, giving her a much better opening to take down her target. Launching onto his back, her legs wrapped around his ribcage whilst her hands took hold of his head and twisted hard, a sickening crack bouncing off the walls of the music room.

Professor Edelstein stared at her in horror, backing away from the body that fell with a loud thud. "Y-you killed him?"

She ignored him as she picked up the pistol that fell to the ground. Observing the body with a scowl, all she could do was curse herself for her stupidity. "_Sixth_." It was a trap. Just as she knew his identity, he was quick to discover hers. Who knew how long he'd been keeping tabs on her, despite all the false leads she planted and covered trails, she should've known he had the resources to find her. One did not get on the bad side of the most dangerous crime boss in the world and expect to get off scot-free. And the fact that he was attacking her now of all times meant he _knew_ that she was after First's identity, where he would be able to take them both out in one fell swoop. It would be killing two birds with one stone, taking out the most promising champion _and_ the one diary holder who knew his face. Such a deplorable waste of human life, her gut just knew the man was having his stupid 'family' do all the dirty work for him. _Coward_.

"I-I demand you explain yourself!" Roderich ordered, though his stutter betrayed him.

"No time to explain," she huffed, opening her phone. Her eyes widened in surprise as she noticed her own dead end, the distorted sound having been what caused them to be attacked in the first place. Yet that wasn't what shocked her, it was how she would die that did. There was a powerful explosive rigged in the building somewhere. They needed to get out of here. _Now_.

"We need to leave," she turned to the teacher, her tone urgent.

"What? We're in the middle of the lockdown!" Roderich huffed. "We can't go out there, it's dangerous!"

"If we stay here, we'll _die_," she countered. "There's a bomb hidden in the building, we have to get out before it detonates!"

Blinking in horror, Roderich's mind only went to one thing. "The students! They have to evacuate!"

Elisabeth frowned. "We can't-" but the man had already run out of the room. Groaning, she followed him, knowing he'd die if he was caught out there alone.

Why did she even care? Cursing, she remembered it had always been a weakness of hers.

.oOo.

Alfred jumped as he heard Ivan fire, shivering when a body dropped to the ground. Blue eyes scanned his entries while Ivan sought cover in the corner once more. "One more," Alfred mouthed as he raised his index finger, the Russian giving him a quick nod before looking back at the mirror. A round was rapidly fired at it, shattering it. Now that he knew the enemy had fucking _assault rifles_ in their possession, he felt sick. Ivan let out a low growl while he crouched, quickly picking up a nearby mirror shard and raising it to the door's opening, tilting it in his hand as he waited for the next person to turn the corner.

"You cannot hide from me," the man muttered as his footsteps drew nearer, a heavy accent in his tone.

Ivan smirked as he stared at the reflection in his hand before ducking down and swiftly rolling into the stall beside them, leaving the American completely alone. In a stall. That was completely unlocked. And partially _open_. _With an armed killer in the room_.

Eyes shot wide, he sucked in a heavy breath and held it as the gunman approached, heart coming to a complete stop when his door opened. Face-to-face with a man in a formal business suit, fedora, a large gun in his hands aimed right at his chest, he nearly fainted, but then the stranger let out a startled cry as the hair on his head was yanked back, a glass shard ripping into his throat.

Ivan smiled tightly as he watched the man gurgle on his blood, eyes wild and in agony. "I think not," he said sweetly before dropping the would-be killer. Alfred felt his mouth drop in sheer terror after watching the other so easily slit another man's throat. Though thankful it wasn't himself that died, it was certainly on his list of things he could've gone his entire life without seeing.

After ripping the rifle out of the dying man's grasp, Ivan handed Alfred the magnum, who could only stare back at him blankly. Was he...was he actually expected to kill someone?

Offering a sympathetic smile, Ivan gestured for the teen to take it. "I will protect you, my love. But you should have the opportunity to defend yourself, yes? Take it just in case, at least to hold onto it for me."

Hesitantly, he did take it. Never in his life did he hold a gun that wasn't manufactured by _Nerf_. Holy shit, if a teacher caught him with a weapon he could get _expelled_. Hopefully he wouldn't have to use it. If Deus cared about him at all, he wouldn't have to use it. _Please don't put him in a situation where he'd have to use it_.

Ivan was checking the body of the first person he killed, looking for spare ammo he could use. Thankfully the Russian knew better than to give the AR to him, as he was already on the verge of a panic attack with the tiny magnum in his hands.

"It's strong, make sure you use both hands," Ivan nodded toward the gun. Oh, right, _recoil_. That was a thing, he only knew because that's how it was in video games, literally his only reference for right now. Was he really that unprepared for a survival game? Despite being only 7 months younger than Ivan, the Russian was stronger, _smarter_ \- not necessarily in the academic sense, Alfred had pretty good grades, but that type of intelligence was useless in this situation. Not only was Ivan book smart, he was street smart too, which was something Alfred _lacked_. When it came to survival, he didn't have a single clue on what to do, other than domestic crap like buying groceries, making himself something to eat, putting away his laundry, etcetera. The things that were expected from a spoiled, upper middle-class American teenager, not of a soldier facing death in a battle-zone.

Third had been a well-trained serial killer and now this new diary owner, whoever they were, had the men and artillery to attack his high school without being concerned by the consequences of their actions. Whoever this person was, they were clearly a powerful individual - a risk taker who expected to come out on top. Like a Grandmaster, they sacrificed the pawns and played the long game in order to take down the king.

How was he expected to compete against that? Why was he even selected as a contender?

"Solnyshko?" Ivan tilted his head as he approached Alfred, eyes softening with concern. "Is everything okay?"

"I just," he paused, looking down at the tiled floor that now oozed with crimson, chewing on his lip. "I don't think I can do this. I don't think I stand a chance," he confessed softly, voice cracking.

Ivan stepped over a crimson puddle, hand reaching beneath his chin and gently forcing him to look up into serene violet irises. "You will get better, I promise," he assured the other with a confident grin.

"But everyone is so-"

A pale thumb stroked his lip. "What have I said time and time again? Do not worry about them, I am here and by your side. I will kill anyone who tries to get in our way," he bent slightly to place a quick peck on Alfred's unresponsive mouth.

"But..._why_?"

"Why? Because you are my sunshine!" Ivan beamed, cocking his head to the side in a cutesy manner. Furrowing his brows, not quite understanding the answer, he felt the taller blond take his wrist and escort him out of the bathroom. When they got back into the hallway, Alfred could hear distant footsteps. Letting go of his arm, Ivan instead placed his hand beneath the gun for support and surveyed his environment. "We just need to hold them off until the cops take care of the snipers...use your phone and be my eyes," he said in a low hush.

Nodding, Alfred pulled out his diary. "Two in the science wing, three in mathematics."

Leading with light steps as he walked along the wall, Ivan frowned. "What does it say about cutting through the history corridor?"

"It says...oh no."

Ivan turned to him. "What's wrong?"

"_Feli_," he gasped.

.oOo.

Feliciano had been whimpering through his tears as he heard the strange men running outside his history class, not even Ludwig's embrace could calm him down. Was there a gang out there? Some organization? Clearly this was an organized assault. He just never expected there to be a _raid_ in his school.

Where were the police?

There was talking outside the door, a bit muffled, but he somewhat recognized the language they were speaking. A lot of the words reminded him of Italian, but he wasn't entirely sure. There was a bang and the handle was completely blown off, the door opening wide to reveal a couple of men in formal attire, sunglasses, one wielding a rifle as the other held a pistol. Were they..._mafia_? The armed men stared at horrified teenagers who sobbed and screamed, wondering if this was the end for them - if they would simply end up as casualties in another school shooting. Their teacher stood in front of them, begging that they spare her students, but the annoyed expression on their faces told them all they were apathetic to their pleas.

But then their eyes shifted to him, and they stared for a while before turning to each other, speaking in that other language again. One of them walked over to him and yanked him from Ludwig's grasp. Screaming and crying as the strange men pulled him away, Ludwig refused to let go of his arm. Torn between the two, Feliciano failed to notice backup charge into the room, three guys yelling at the class to "Shut up!" Their eyes were on the German, and then switched to the men holding the young Italian. They spoke some more before one grabbed the blond by the hair, forcing Ludwig to let go as a pistol was pressed painfully into his spine.

"_Walk_, you come with us," the man holding the German hostage ordered. Odd, since the guy who restrained Feliciano treated him much more gently in comparison despite the firm hold on his arm. Another man grabbed Feliciano's free elbow, restricting the use of both his limbs whilst covering him protectively, leading the two teens out of the classroom without any explanation.

.oOo.

"Fedya!" Ivan yelled as he chased after the other, but Alfred being an athlete had a good sprint ahead of him, not to mention how carrying an assault rifle made it much harder to close the gap. "It is dangerous! Fedya!"

The American ignored the other as he continued racing down the hall. Feliciano and Ludwig were being used as hostages. They were good people, he had to save them! They didn't deserve to get hurt, especially in something that didn't involve them. This was all his fault, they were after _him_ and he needed to make this right. He had to do _something_!

**-**_**shhhhBBBTTT**_**-**

Before he had the chance to check his phone, he noticed something thrown his way.

A grenade?!

It hit the ground with a loud _BANG_, his vision went white with a loud ringing in his ears. He was disoriented, terrified, in pain as he fell to the ground. Though his body was intact, he felt like he was going to throw up. Suddenly he felt rough hands on him, someone tore his phone and gun out of his grasp.

"Aha, so it's _you_!"

Yep, he was definitely going to die today.

.oOo.

"Ninth, come out come out wherever you are!" A voice on a megaphone teased in a merciless tone. Curious, Matthew and Kiku went to the window where they could see the courtyard, wondering what the hell this person was talking about.

The older twin paled as he saw his brother on the ground, badly beaten as he struggled to get off his stomach, all alone in the center. There was blood coming off his lip, his glasses were gone, and all Matthew could do was watch in terror whilst clutching his hair.

"_No_!" he screamed before he running toward the door, only to have other students restrain him. He flailed in their arms, kicking and clawing at them to let go so he could help his brother.

"Matthew, it is too dangerous to go out there!" Kiku cried, completely distressed by what he saw. Why was Alfred being used as a hostage? Of all people, why his best friend? But there was nothing they could do to improve the situation.

"M-My brother! They have my brother!" He managed to free himself and went to the window, opening it, hating how he was on the second floor so he couldn't just jump out and rush to his twin's side. "Alfred! Alfred!"

.oOo.

His vision was blurred as he tried to look up, he could hear someone calling his name, but his head was pounding, making it sound like he was underwater. He was also cold - why was he outside? Why wasn't he dead yet? They had the perfect chance to kill him, so why didn't they?

Slowly his eyes began correcting themselves, though his vision wasn't perfect, it was still pretty good. He wondered if the enemy realized he really wasn't at a disadvantage without them on, they were more for aesthetics if anything. Everything he needed to see was clear.

There was a man with a megaphone, calling out to someone. Ninth? They were here? And who was this guy? Was he a diary holder too?

"Ah, I was wondering when you would show up, _Fourth_. I am correct, yes?" The man grinned, and Alfred whipped his head around to see an officer with choppy blond hair that went up to his shoulders and sharp green eyes approach him. Finally managing to push onto his knees, Alfred let out a heavy sigh as he stared at the man beside him.

"F-Fourth?" He asked shakily. A _cop_.

"First, good to finally meet you in person," Zwingli said with a nod. "I said I'd look out for you, didn't I?" Alfred could only stare at the other blankly as he tried to understand what was happening. The officer turned to the man with the megaphone. "Is Sixth that much of a coward he had to send his men to do all his dirty work?"

"Coward?" the capo tutted. "Un _genio_. He had a plan and it worked perfectly. Now you, First, and Ninth are all at the same place at the same time."

"Yes, that would explain the bombs," the officer huffed. "What does he want? In exchange for letting all the students evacuate unharmed."

"What il Rex wants is simple, for you to capture Ninth and kill her."

Zwingli raised a brow. "Is that all?"

"_After_ you kill First," he added with a smirk.

The officer stared at the teenager for a moment, considering his options, before raising a gun to his head. Alfred covered his mouth as he tried to contain a sob, this wasn't how he wanted to go! At least...at least his sacrifice would mean he died a hero right? It's what Captain America would've done. He had to think on the bright side, he _had_ to or he'd lose it.

.oOo.

Matthew and Kiku could only stare at their band director in surprise as the door opened and revealed him standing beside a pretty woman they'd never seen before carrying a pistol. There was a large crowd of students and teachers behind them and though the woman seemed annoyed and antsy, she was always on guard, constantly checking her phone.

"Come, we're evacuating all of you," Mr. Edelstein gestured for them to join, and they did, merging themselves with the pre-existing group. Matthew noticed Francis was among them, his cousin frantically gestured for him to come to his side.

The woman lowered her phone and turned to Roderich. "Once you get those last two classrooms, go down the east staircase and through the arts hallway. You have 20 minutes to get to the forest and you should be safe."

"What? And where are you going?" The musician stared at her, eyes wide.

"I have business to take care of," she hissed as she turned her head to the side. Giving him one last look, she handed him the pistol. "Take care of yourself. And the others." After watching her turn and run in the opposite direction without waiting for a response, Roderich got his bearings and immediately began following her instruction.

"Mathieu?" Francis turned to him, noticing that his gaze never left the woman.

"You go, I'll be right behind you," Matthew assured the other before purposefully slowing down and getting lost in the crowd. Once he was sure his cousin was far ahead, he turned to chase after the woman.

She had to be going to where Alfred was.

.oOo.

Zwingli frowned. "Any last words, kid?"

"I-" he paused. What would a hero say? He had to think of a good one-liner, something that people could remember him by. "Y-you either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become a villain, right?" A _Dark Knight_ quote. A bit geeky, unoriginal, but he felt it was fitting in its own special way.

The officer seemed to pause at his words and lowered his weapon, apparently not getting the reference and actually pondering on their deeper meaning. Did he think Alfred was giving him a slight jab? Because in all honesty, he wasn't.

"Well?" Sixth's caporegime yelled from across the courtyard. "Are you going to do it?"

An explosion erupted, coming from the second floor of the building directly behind the enemy. The three individuals in the courtyard looked to the source, only to see a red-stained Ivan jump out of the broken window with shattered glass falling everywhere like crystal snow. Violet eyes reflecting the flames surrounding him before he landed on a soldier, using them to cushion his fall whilst their spine snapped on impact. Tightly grasping a bloody pipe, he stood up from the unconscious body, eyes glaring at the capo in charge who stared in turn with his mouth agape. "You...are _next_," Ivan promised, raising his pipe and pointing it at his next target.

Worried as the enraged Russian stalked toward him, the capo brought up his radio and began speaking in a foreign language.

"You think your men are going to save you?" Ivan let out a mocking laugh. "I killed them all, just as I will kill you," it then dawned on Alfred that the deep crimson matted in silvery hair, splattered on Ivan's face and clothes was _blood_. "Now you have no evidence to report back. You _failed_."

"S-stop!" The man raised a hand, holding a detonator. "If you come any closer, I will blow this place to the ground. We will _all_ die!" That made Ivan come to a halt, he wouldn't risk Alfred's life like that. "Now, I may not know who you are, but you will not interfere with the boss' plans!"

Ivan's lips quirked into a condescending smirk.

.oOo.

Elisabeth cursed, brows fixed in concentration as she attempted to solve the puzzle that would diffuse the main bomb, the one that activated and controlled all the others in the building. Of course it'd be in the boiler room of all places, she thought as the back of her hand wiped excess sweat off her forehead.

A._._.I.C._._.R.I.A_. Five more letters and it would be done.

The door opened and she swirled around, raising the magnum she found beside a corpse and aiming it at the person walking in. _Oh_, it was just a kid. Specifically, it was First's twin brother. The boy raised his hands in surrender and she lowered her weapon before redirecting her attention to the task at hand.

"I-Is that a bomb?" Matthew paled once he saw a screen with strange letters on it, thick wires vining off of it wrapped around a large tank while smaller ones attached themselves to a small console the woman preoccupied herself with.

"Yes, now shut up! You're ruining my concentration," she snapped, trying to focus on the text written in her diary.

"M-maybe I can help?" He offered as he took a few tentative steps forward.

Shaking her head, she figured she might as well explain to the other boy why he would be of no use. Maybe that would make him go away and evacuate with the others. "There's a latin phrase I need to type in order to defuse the bomb, and to figure out the letters I need to solve all sorts of cryptic riddles only _I_ would know the answer to." Squinting at her phone screen again, the solution to the next puzzle came to her.

A._.V.I.C._._.R.I.A_. Four more letters.

Matthew contemplated the screen for a moment before tilting his head curiously. "Could that be 'Ad Victoriam'?"

Elisabeth blinked at him. "Excuse me?"

"It just looked like it spelled 'Victoria,' and then I remembered how they used 'Ad Victoriam' in this game I watched Alfred play...I-I don't know…" Matthew shrugged nervously, wondering if he was being stupid and embarrassing himself in front of this stranger.

She turned to her phone. A.D.V.I.C.T.O.R.I.A.M. To victory. It made sense. Taking in a deep breath, she typed it into the console. This was either going to work or kill them both instantly, it was for the best she didn't divulge that information with him.

Hitting enter, the bomb completely shut off, as well as deactivated all others planted in the building. Standing there in stunned silence, she turned to Matthew, thoroughly impressed. The kid did it, he was _actually_ able to help her.

"I-it worked?" He asked incredulously, indigo eyes flickering to her.

Elisabeth nodded slowly, taking a moment to process what just transpired.

.oOo.

In the distance, Alfred heard his diary go off. It was between him and the guy with the megaphone, slightly to the right. Ivan had glanced at it as well, though immediately his eyes went back to observing the capo, waiting for a moment to strike.

"Ah, don't you wish you could see your future? Go ahead!"

"Don't!" Ivan yelled. "There are landmines planted all around it," he warned.

"You seem to be in a predicament. If you make one sudden move, we will blow up, if you-"

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Elisabeth smirked as she approached the man from behind, raising her gun. "Ad victoriam."

The capo's blood ran cold. "N-no-"

She fired a single bullet through his skull, tearing a hole through it. It alarmed Alfred that he seemed to be the only one phased by the murder, paling and wincing as the body hit the ground.

"Ninth, I was told you'd be here…" Zwingli narrowed his eyes as he raised his gun to her. "As valiant as your efforts were, you're still a criminal, and you're under arrest."

Her green eyes glared at him for a moment before she shrugged, tossing her gun right into a landmine that exploded when touched. Suddenly a chain reaction of detonations from that point out began to occur, and Alfred stilled in horror when he realized the danger he was in.

"Fedya, your phone! _Run!_" Ivan yelled as he pulled out his diary. Pushing himself off the ground, Alfred sprinted toward his device and into the dust cloud. He was a dead man if he didn't get to his phone in time, he had to at least _try_ to survive another day. "Your right!" Turning, he avoided setting off a new chain. "Left!" Nearly skidding on the dirt, he saved himself at the last second by using his hand as support along the ground. "Reach down, right!" He did, feeling the familiar device scooped into his hand. "Right again!" he dove out of the minefield before the explosion could take him or his phone.

Gasping for breath as he knelt on the ground, covered in dead grass and dirt, a little wet from the few patches of snow that had yet to melt, he fell onto his back feeling the sun shine on his face. Checking his phone, he saw that his dead end had disappeared. Somehow he avoided his gruesome fate and survived the day, he was _alive_. He nearly cried.

Ivan was immediately at his side, cheeks glistening with relieved tears, though the rusty stench of blood resulted in Alfred's nose wrinkling in disgust. "Solnyshko, please never run off without me ever again! I was so afraid I lost you!" The golden-blond felt a weight on his body. Using his elbows to push himself up slightly and peering down, he noticed it was Ivan hugging him, face buried into his chest as he bawled into his gym shirt.

Frowning as his fingers brushed back silvery bangs, his heart ached for the other. Ivan was only trying to protect him and all he did was make his life harder. He couldn't do anything right, maybe he should just stop trying to be a hero because it was pretty obvious he was in way over his head. There was no way he'd last until the end at this rate, he needed to become stronger, smarter, more like _Ivan_. Then maybe he wouldn't have to rely on him so much anymore.

"Al!" Suddenly the teen felt someone behind him, supporting him up. "I-I was so scared," Matthew cried, hunching over him protectively as he allowed his younger twin to rest his head on his knees while gripping his hand and squeezing it tight.

Feeling the others surround him made him feel warm, despite the cool January breeze. But Alfred was exhausted, so very, very exhausted - mentally and physically, wanting nothing more than to close his eyes and rest.

He regretted not taking the sick day.

* * *

_A/N: So now you know the identities of First - Alfred Jones, Second - Ivan Braginsky, Third - Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo, Fourth - Basch Zwingli, Ninth - Elisabeth Héderváry. That's 5/12 confirmed, feel free to guess the rest. I left some big hints on who Sixth is, so soon that'll be added to the list._

_I didn't forget about Feliciano and Ludwig. It'll all be explained eventually. _


	7. Skeletons in the Closet

_A/N: I guess the worst of my semester has yet to come since I've had a lot of free time. I don't know how long this grace period is gonna last though so be warned. I'll try to get as many chapters out as possible beforehand. _

* * *

**Chapter 7: Skeletons in the Closet**

Groggy as he swirled the contents of his cereal, Alfred pretended he didn't see the concerned glance Matthew sent him. It wasn't like he could stomach the meal anyway now that it was soggy and he was ridden with anxiety 24/7, constantly on edge in case of another attack. He didn't want to be caught off guard again, but knowing Murphy's Law it was bound to happen no matter what precautions he took. It had been five days since his confrontation with the serial killer, four since the attack on his school. There had been no incidents since, but he could feel it in his gut that the end of his respite was nearing. He wasn't prepared for it in the slightest.

There had been no school since the raid, it was now temporarily closed until the school board and township came to a consensus on how they would move forward whilst making necessary repairs. The police still had to complete a thorough investigation to make sure all the bombs were safely removed, recover the bodies, and find any leads to the organization that did this. With Officer Zwingli's help, all data that could've been traced back to him and Ivan was swept under the rug. To the public eye, the two students were nothing more than innocent hostages selected at random.

The list of casualties hadn't been high, but it was still surreal to think about. First Emma had died a few months ago, now their principal as well as a few students and teachers who resisted the enemy's demands were gone. Alfred hadn't known any of them all that well, but it was still horrible to think about, particularly because those deaths were on _him_. It was him that Sixth wanted, everyone else was just in the way.

How many more lives would be lost because of him? His mother had called immediately after she heard of the incident, weeping and wishing she could be with her babies through this harrowing ordeal, but grandma was more injured than previously thought and had trouble moving around. Torn on whether she should stay or go home, and seeing as how Mémé was in no condition to live on her own, she suggested that the boys go to her. Alfred assured her he was _fine_, despite it being far from the truth. He had no interest in going all the way to Canada and possibly put his mother and grandma in danger, he loved them too much to do something so selfish. Dad was in China right now, having called to make sure his boys were alright. There was never a clear sign of when he'd be back home, his job as a commercial pilot was extremely demanding and he'd used a good portion of his vacation time to take December off and celebrate the holidays with his family and his days off were normally reserved for sleep at a hotel close to his next shift. For once, Alfred was actually glad his father wasn't expected to return soon, grateful that both his parents were stuck in different countries far away from him. As much as he yearned for their comfort, he didn't want them to get _hurt_. Right now he was a danger to be around, mainly to his friends and loved ones. If he could, he'd convince Matthew to go north and just leave him behind, but now his twin was constantly by his side like the protective big brother he was.

Life always had a funny way of throwing your desires back into your face. This was the exact thing he wanted a month ago and now he _hated_ it.

It was common for him to wake up in the middle of the night with a scream, tears pouring down his cheeks as he was caught in a panic. Images of Third hacking into him with a machete, Ivan stalking toward him covered in blood. Matthew always ran into his bedroom to help calm him from his hyperventilating, embracing him comfortingly as he stroked his hair the way mom did when they were distressed. Always Alfred would snivel into his twin's shoulder, unsure whether to accept the gesture or push his twin away for his own safety. In the end, he always found himself giving in to his vulnerability until exhaustion took over, waking up the next morning to find his brother asleep, having stayed by his side the whole night.

He really loved Matthew. It wasn't said often enough, but it should.

Just looking at his twin from his seat beside the kitchen island, he could sense the other had questions for him. Many questions. But the way he bit his lip and prevented them from spilling meant that he was considering his brother's mental state, not wanting to discuss it until he knew the other was ready. In truth, Alfred was thankful for it. Matthew would think he was going off the deep-end if he mentioned anything about Deus and the survival game, his stalker being his savior, and his constant array of near-death experiences. Some things were just better left in the dark.

A sudden knock on the door startled him, an action that didn't go unnoticed. Matthew pursed his lips, his indigo gaze softening as he watched his brother suffer from trauma. "I'll go get it," he said before jogging out of the kitchen.

Curious, Alfred pushed away from his breakfast and followed after the other, hearing a familiar voice on the other side of the front door.

"I'm sorry, but he's not home right now," Matthew replied coldly, recalling how the man on the other side aimed a gun to his brother's head.

"It's fine, Mattie," Alfred appeared behind him, forcing a smile.

"You're sure?"

Nodding, he affirmed that Fourth was trustworthy enough. The man was an officer, so that meant he had to be good, right? Though it wasn't like he could resist if he wanted to. His gaze shifted to the police interceptor Zwingli drove, eyes immediately landing on the Russian whose demeanor lit up when they met, a bright smile on his face. Chewing on his lip nervously, Alfred sent Matthew a quick wave before following the cop toward the vehicle and seating himself in the back with Ivan.

The car ride wasn't terribly long, just a few traffic delays as they headed toward the city, but fortunately they got off a few exits before it could worsen. Mainly Alfred spent the time watching Ivan play with his hand, massaging and tracing the lines on his palm like some psychic reader, memorizing every detail. It actually felt pretty soothing, and Ivan's adoring look after he elicited a small giggle when the other brushed over a sensitive nerve was so genuine it made old feelings resurface - a blush crept on his cheeks as Ivan laced their fingers together. That wasn't good for him.

When they arrived at the precinct, the two boys exited the car and found themselves inside a building where they followed Officer Zwingli into a meeting room with a large round table in the center surrounded by many empty chairs. Alfred took the closest one and Ivan immediately sat in the one right beside him, scooting closer so that their knees touched. The other really didn't have a concept of personal space, the younger teen mused before Zwingli cleared his throat.

"We've been unable to find Ninth since she escaped from the school," Zwingli informed them, sliding a folder to Alfred. "I've been trying to deduce what kind of diary she has, I believe it charts out the best escape routes for her."

Opening the folder and skimming through its contents, Alfred found his eyes widening. That substitute in his Spanish class was a discharged soldier-turned-_mercenary_? There were so many deaths tied to her, none that overlapped with Thirds, but she was still a capable killer. She was a _hitman_, one who managed to break into his school without being caught. Once again, he realized how underprepared he was compared to everyone else. A serial killer, a cop, some crime lord, a hitman, and _Ivan_. Against him, a high schooler. "I see…" he muttered. "What does your diary tell you?"

"Mine?" Zwingli let out a small chuckle. "It allows me to predict crimes, it helps a lot with my investigations. I've been able to get plenty of good leads, some even pertaining to diary owners and those I suspect may be the other potential contenders."

That was an interesting diary. "Like who?"

"Well, there was being able to find Elisabeth at your school and being able to have my men take down the snipers that otherwise surrounded the building. I've been able to get far in my research with Sixth, I believe he operates from within the city and is in the possession of a powerful diary himself. I had also been investigating Third, but you two beat me to it."

"Wow, your diary-"

"Tell us the real reason you have brought us here," Ivan interrupted, displaying the perfect poker face.

Officer Zwingli stared at him for a moment before a small grin curved his lips. "_Clever_, I think I like you," Alfred's gaze flickered between the two of them in surprise. "I want to propose an alliance between the three of us. I have no desire to become god, but I will not allow these criminals a chance to win. Nothing good can come from a world governed by the lawless, but at least with one of you I can rest easy knowing there's a candidate with morals," his green eyes were fixed on the younger of the two teens as he said that.

"And that fact that Alfred escaped two dead ends is very appealing to you, da?"

"I am interested in the power of your diaries, clearly to survive Third and Sixth is no simple feat. However, I respect your choice to keep that information private."

"Good, we will be doing that," Ivan nodded before smiling tightly, clasping his hands together on the table. "I have one condition."

"Yes?"

"Our next target is Sixth."

Zwingli stared at him, scowling. "I know he's dangerous, but if we get Ninth first she may be able to divulge information that would be essential in finding him and give us the upper hand."

"For now, she is no concern of mine. Though I want nothing more than to gut her for putting my beloved's life at risk, I would much rather take out most dangerous threat first. Wouldn't you agree, Fedya?"

"U-uh, sure," it wasn't like Alfred had a clue what he was doing, he was just following the flow.

Zwingli sighed. "Very well. I'll see what I can do, but no promises," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "None of the prisoners have said anything, they seem devoutly loyal to whoever this Sixth is. Nothing will make them talk."

Ivan's grin twisted into something more sardonic. "I suppose you have tried torture as well? Perhaps it is a family matter…" Zwingli neither confirmed nor denied the first part, but his brows fixed together as he contemplated the second half.

"Latin. They all speak Latin, but also Italian," he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Mafia. That much is obvious, but determining which family is where the problem lies. It could easily become a disaster if we pick wrong."

"Well, Ninth seemed to have had some history with these men. Perhaps a more in-depth look into her background will shed some light," the Russian proposed calmly.

The officer nodded thoughtfully. "Hm, I'll take some time to go over things I may have overlooked. In the meantime, I'll have to think of something for the two of you to do," he noticed Alfred's eyes widen. "This is an alliance, correct? That means we all work together, but don't worry, I will make sure my resources are extended to you and you're covered accordingly."

"Thank you," the American glanced over at Ivan who smiled at him reassuringly, a hand reaching beneath the table to squeeze his own. He could only stare at the other, conflicted, unsure of how to feel about the path they were taking.

At the very least, he wasn't going through this alone.

.oOo.

Two days after the meeting with officer Zwingli, Alfred spent his early morning watching cartoons in the family room as he ate the chocolate-chip pancakes Matthew made for him. It had almost been a week since anything crazy happened, a whole new record! No prolonged exposure to stalkers, no dead ends, no murders. All he did was bury himself in blankets, snuggle with his cats, and eat junk food. If only he could live like this forever and not deal with the other diary owners, to just relax in the safety of his home without all the violence, especially since he'd seen enough blood the past week to last him a lifetime.

"Al, I'm really worried about you," Matthew seated himself beside him. "I know you're scared to go out with the serial killer wandering around and now the trauma of being a hostage, but I don't want you to become agoraphobic or something. You _love_ the outdoors." Wincing, Alfred remembered how the rest of the world didn't know Third was literally wiped from existence. They also wouldn't believe him if he told them the truth.

"It's January, Mattie. It's cold outside, I don't wanna-"

"You quit swimming!" Matthew exclaimed. "You love to swim! I don't want you to be afraid of doing the things you enjoy!" Alfred did quit the swim team, mainly because he realized he had many other things he needed to prioritize. Like a survival game. Wait until he told his twin he had no intention of going back to baseball, auditioning for the school play, trying out for esports, or continuing with any of his clubs.

"Yeah, well, you haven't been going to your hockey practices," he countered.

"Because I don't want to leave you alone, Alfie," his twin's eyes were pleading. "You could be developing depression, and with your nightmares I'm wondering if you're suffering from PTSD-"

"Stop trying to diagnose me!" Alfred huffed, stabbing his pancake with a fork. "I'm fine! I'm not depressed, I don't have PTSD! I'll get _over_ this." Or die trying, but he didn't need his brother acting like his therapist all the while. "Besides, I thought you were taking care of Tim. What happened to him anyway?"

"He's been doing better, not that he'll ever get over it, but he's learned to accept what happened and...well, he and I have our own little projects we get into, but he understands that I'm taking a break to be here with you."

"Projects?" Alfred raised a brow.

Hesitantly, Matthew nodded. "We're just trying to see if we can find anything that would give us an idea on who the murderer is. We never know when he'll strike again and these women and their families deserve justice for-"

Alfred groaned, "You will _never_ find him."

"What makes you say that?"

"Trust me, he's-" There was a loud knock on the front door. Who the hell would be visiting at 9am on a Tuesday? Francis and Jeanne usually sent them a message ahead of time if they were coming, so he doubted it was them.

"Just finish your breakfast, I'll check it out," Matthew sighed as he got off the couch and went to the door, Alfred paused the TV and went silent, waiting to hear who it was. Officer Zwingli. _Again_? Staring at the ceiling, he felt a wave of dread overcome him as footsteps drew nearer. Gazing at the doorway, he saw the officer and a blissful Ivan following his nervous brother into the room. "Um, Al? That cop is back, said he needed to see you…sorry." Alfred could only frown at the two trespassers.

"Beautiful home," Zwingli said as he looked around. "Are your parents home?"

"Uh, n-no sir…" his twin responded awkwardly. Technically their parents weren't supposed to leave them alone for long periods of time, at least that had been the case when they first started to when the boys were thirteen - it was like a law or something. The family just kept it as a secret since if there ever was an emergency, mom could just hop on a train and head back home or Francis would be right there to help. Even though they were seventeen now, just six months away from being adults, Matthew was unsure if the law still applied and could get their parents into serious trouble.

Fortunately for them, Zwingli didn't pry. Instead he nodded in understanding before turning to Alfred. "Well, if you could hurry up and get dressed that would be great. We have business we need to discuss."

"Business?" Matthew turned to Alfred who didn't look at him, feigning ignorance as he downed a glass of orange juice. "I don't understand."

"Nothing big, I assure you," Zwingli replied convincingly. Alfred narrowed his eyes as he shot the officer a quick glance. Fourth was a pretty good liar, he made sure to make a mental note of that.

After setting down his cup, he tore off his blankets and sat up, passing the others without any acknowledgement of their presence. Running up the stairs, he went into his bedroom and pulled out his day clothes, regretting that he'd taken his shower when he first woke up as it would've been a nice way to stall the inevitable. He changed into his usual casual clothes - skinny jeans, a blue, brand-name sweater, socks and converse. Deciding to forgo his grandpa's old bomber jacket in favor of an actual winter coat due to how cold it was recently, he turned to take his leave only for his heart to stop, all blood suddenly drained from his face.

"H-how long have you been there?" Alfred squeaked as he stared at Ivan, who was standing beneath the doorway, violet eyes watching him intently.

"Whole time. Why?"

"No, _no no no_. That's such an invasion of privacy, dude. You saw me in my _briefs_!" he wanted to hide in a ditch somewhere and never come out.

"You change in locker rooms, yes? And in swim you are almost bare. I do not see big deal," Ivan frowned.

"Yes, but it's different when you just _stare_ the whole time without _consent_," Alfred stressed.

The silvery-blond hummed nonchalantly. "You are finished. Come, Basch is waiting for us," as Alfred was about to follow him out, Ivan reached for his hand and held it, seemingly oblivious to the annoyed glare the American sent him.

They made it downstairs to where Matthew awkwardly stood in the foyer beside the staircase, indigo eyes observing Zwingli who waited by the front door. As Alfred and Ivan passed him, Matthew noticed them holding hands and squinted his eyes in suspicion, but said nothing regarding it. "I guess I'll see you later then," he told his twin as he rubbed his arm anxiously.

"Yeah, see you later," '_hopefully_,' he thought as he let go of Ivan's hand to open the nearby closet and put on a coat. When he finished, the other was way too eager to continue where they left off. Why was Ivan constantly so touchy-feely with him anyway? Did he not get any affection at home? Once again, he found himself very curious about the other's personal life. Maybe he would understand Ivan more if he got concrete answers.

For the second time that week, he found himself in the officer's car, ready to be driven off to god-knows-where. As the engine started, he realized he should probably ask about what was going on. "So, Mr. Zwingli...now that my brother isn't here, mind telling me why you picked me so early?"

"Did you not get my message?"

Alfred shook his head, not wanting to share that he had been ignoring all messages on his phone that weren't from people related to him by blood or Kiku. Definitely not with his stalker right beside him, sitting way too close for comfort.

"Well, today you're both bait."

.oOo.

Trekking through the city wasn't something Alfred particularly enjoyed, even more so in winter when the streets were crowded, the subway was a sauna while the surface was freezing, and a single cold could easily become an epidemic. He would much rather have come in either spring or fall, but instead he had to walk around on a not-date with Ivan's warm hand holding his own like they were a young couple rather than two contestants in an unworldly survival game.

Really? This was Zwingli's definition of being bait? Just hanging out in the city, taking a nice stroll through Rockefeller Plaza? He could've been fooled. At least the man had the courtesy to buy them prepaid MetroCards so they could go anywhere they pleased without having to worry about cash, everything was so unnecessarily expensive here compared to home.

Ivan stopped beside a glass pane to stare at the ice skating rink below them, a joyful gleam in his eyes. "Fedya, we should skate!"

Lamenting over how the Christmas decorations had already been taken down, Alfred turned to the Russian with a raised brow. "You're talking to the wrong cowboy. I haven't skated since I was eight." That was more of Matthew's thing, not his.

"Even better, I will help you!"

Unable to resist Ivan's sweet face and adorable giggle, he gave in with a small groan. "Fine." They went to the rental shop and got their skates, paid for admission, and soon Alfred found himself latched on to a nearby rail as he left the building. A few of the more adept skaters snickered as he struggled, frustrated the teen recalled his mother once telling him that if he learned to skate once, he'd know it for life. Well, it seemed like he completely forgot how to stand on a metal blade!

Ivan was suddenly beside him, smiling, offering his hand for support. It was like the Russian _always_ won, Alfred thought bitterly as he took it, letting the other lead him toward the ice. Instantly Alfred grabbed onto the glass barricade and stuck to it like glue while Ivan let out an amused chuckle. "Dorogoy, you won't learn if you stay where you are comfortable whole time," he chastised lightly.

"I don't wanna fall," he admitted quietly.

"You won't fall, I catch you!"

Hesitantly, Alfred let go of the siding, his legs wobbling before Ivan switched which hand he held, the other finding itself on Alfred's waist before gliding forward. A heavy blush bloomed in the American's cheeks as they were pressed extremely close together with Ivan taking control and guiding him confidently. After a lap, Alfred noted that he was already much more comfortable skating. Maybe his mother had a point, he was definitely starting to remember a bit, though he never learned past the basics.

"See? You are improving so much already!" Ivan encouraged, and Alfred couldn't help but shyly smile back.

"Y-yeah," he looked at his feet, partially hating how he was actually enjoying himself right now. "How did you get so good skating?"

"Hm?" Ivan blinked at the sudden question before grimacing with discomfort. "It is not interesting story... but what I would like to know is what made you so afraid of falling," he smiled gently.

"Oh, well when-" Alfred paused, catching himself. _No!_ There Ivan went again, trying to change the topic by distracting him, always taking advantage of his mild ADHD. The younger teen stopped in his tracks, which made Ivan come to a halt as he cocked his head to the side questioningly.

"Sunflower?"

"No, I want to hear about _you_," Alfred huffed. "I don't care if it's boring."

Violet eyes were wide, taken aback. "Fedya…"

"Please, Ivan," he whined, pulling out the big guns by giving the other his well-practiced puppy dog eyes and irresistible pout.

"I-" Ivan gave him a pained look, cheeks flushed as he averted his gaze. "When I was a boy, there was a lake near my house...my sisters and I would skate there in the wintertime."

"You have sisters?" Alfred's brows shot up wide. This whole time he assumed Ivan was an only child.

"One older, one younger."

"Are they here with you?"

"Ah," Ivan frowned, eyes darkening. "Nyet, they are not."

"Oh, well what about your parents?" Alfred noticed the way the other flinched.

"In Russia," he said tensely, expression impassive.

"Wait, so who do you stay with?" In the past minute, Alfred was getting more information on the Russian's life than in the time since they met. He was eager to keep this train rolling for as long as he could.

"Family friend."

"Oh," and suddenly Alfred felt for the guy. No wonder why he was so affectionate and touchy, he had no one! At least he always had Matthew and Francis when his parents were gone, Ivan probably reached out to him to fill a lonely void only for Alfred to shut him out. Was protecting someone from being bullied and offering them friendship really enough for them to make you the object of their obsession? To have someone swear to protect and kill for your sake? It just seemed really...excessive. Just how deprived from love was Ivan? God, he felt like such an asshole. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were alone."

Ivan's eyes softened as a gentle smile graced his lips. "We have been over this, I am never alone when I have you."

Nodding, Alfred smiled sadly. "Yeah, you have me…"

.oOo.

Lovino was concerned over his younger brother. For the past few days, Feliciano wouldn't leave his room, and when he did, couldn't even speak to him directly. They never did get along well and Lovino wouldn't consider them close, but he did care for the other. They were family, after all. He understood that Feli was in mourning, his school having been subject to a school shooting. It was horrible, lives were lost and people were frightened. It was depressing to think that such a thing could happen in their hometown, especially since that had once been Lovino's school too. Weren't they supposedly living in a safe area? First serial killers and now this...

His mind went to his bastard of a father who had them live there alone. The man couldn't even spare a moment to call his youngest son and make sure he was unharmed? Did he not care? Feliciano was the prodigy, the favored one, yet their old man hadn't even put in the effort to check up on him. Lovino was furious, of course he was, because now his little brother wasn't eating, was crying all the time, and he had no idea what to do or say to comfort him.

"You need to finish your meal," Lovino scolded him, eyeing the pasta that had been picked at. Not only was it an insult to his cooking, but to his responsibility as the elder sibling. "_Feliciano_."

"Mi dispiace," Feli apologized, whimpering. "I'm just not very hungry right now."

It was pasta and they were Italian. What kind of bullshit was this?

"Okay, you are going to tell me what is bothering you," they never had heart-to-hearts, but he was getting frustrated. If that's what it took to make the other eat again, he'd do it.

And then came the waterworks. _Oh no_. "I-it's all my fault!"

"Che cosa?" Lovino raised a brow.

"Th-the bombings, the raid. _Alfredo_. It was all my fault, I'm the worst friend!" He let out a distraught wail.

"H-huh?" That answer startled him. "What are you talking about? What about Alfredo?"

"I didn't understand until after they came and took me and Ludwig. It took me a while but I _recognized_ some of them, fratello!"

Concerned with his brother's hysterics, he tried to stay focused. "I don't understand. Recognized who?"

There was a knock on the door, and Feliciano immediately cowered. "_Them_."

Shaking with nerves and sending his brother an unsure glance, he made his way toward the front door, but not before taking a frying pan with him. Just in case. He opened the door slowly, relaxing when he saw who it was. His brother was just being paranoid, Lovino decided as he sent the men a nod. Just associates from his father's business, nothing unusual.

"Ciao, cugino. Been a while," one of them greeted with a grin - his cousin Sebastian.

"Ciao," he replied suspiciously, eyes flickering to the other man. Both were wearing formal suits, fedoras, sunglasses. _Seriously? _What were they? The _mob?_

"Sorry, for the short notice, but we've come to escort you to the city."

"Eh?" Lovino's brows shot high on his forehead. "W-why?"

"Well, you see, your father's been meaning to see you," Sebastian replied slyly. "He thinks it's time you become a more prominent member of the family business."

Lovino was shocked, filled with conflicting emotions "W-why? Why _now_?"

"Think of it as a thanks for all your contributions."

.oOo.

By noon they were inside a nearby _Shake Shack_ to get a quick lunch, and by 1pm they were inside the Metropolitan museum looking at the art on display. Alfred reminisced over the many times his mother brought him here with Matthew and Francis; he always loved how beautiful it was, and the exhibits were so cool! His favorite area by far had to be Arms and Armor, there was something about it that always drew him in. Mom called him a romantic, but the concept of a knight in shining armor rescuing the damsel in distress was just so picturesque, he could daydream about it for hours. A classic heroic adventure.

Glancing toward his companion, he noticed Ivan was actually reading the descriptions displayed beneath the objects, probably because he was actually good at history. The only reason he was stuck with the American in a standard class was because everything was in English, which really didn't make sense considering Ivan was fluent. The other should've been bumped up to a more advanced course, though he doubted Ivan would ever allow it if it meant leaving Alfred behind.

"Enjoying yourself?" Alfred grinned at older teen, amused.

"Da, this is fun! I have never been in a museum before, it is very interesting!" Ivan responded with a cheerful smile of his own.

By the time they left the museum, it was already evening. One of the things Alfred hated about winter other than the cold was how quickly it got dark, however the city lights illuminated the streets nicely. He could see intricate, little snowflakes glimmer as they fell from the sky - it was amazing how the rest of the world could just disappear on a snowy day, for once everything was so serene and quiet.

Ivan took his hand and led him inside Central Park where the grass was mostly yellow with a few patches of snow and the reservoir was partially frozen, the streetlamps reflected in its still water. It was so scenic, especially as the snow began to fall in bigger clumps.

Giggling, Ivan's hand brushed a few snowflakes out of Alfred's golden hair. "Did you forget to bring a hat, solnyshko?"

"No," he turned his head over his shoulder. "My coat has a hood. See?" Ivan carefully lifted it over the American's head. "Thanks, _mother_."

The Russian's hand trailed from the top of his hood to his cheek, where his gloved, index finger began to caress the skin there delicately. "You are always so warm, did you know that?"

"That's cause I got that Californian blood in me," he joked despite feeling flustered.

"Is that so?" Ivan smirked, there was a mirthful twinkle in his violet eyes that made Alfred's heart skip a beat.

Crazy, killer-stalker-thing aside, Ivan was really, _really_ handsome. From his face to his body, to his voice and accent, and even now, his sweet, fun personality and the way he made Alfred feel like the most important person in the world, how he promised to protect him and fulfilled that promise every time...

Maybe had he never discovered the Russian's obsession with him, he would've said he was falling in love.

.oOo.

Around 7 they found themselves in Little Italy looking for a restaurant they could eat in, as per officer Zwingli's request via text. The subway ride had been a bit of a hassle, extremely crowded with Ivan protectively shielding him from the other passengers as he was pressed into a corner - he was so content to have some personal space back now that they were out in the open. Strolling down the narrow street, Alfred glared at _Il Romano_, remembering how he had been banned from its brother restaurant. He still had no idea what he did wrong other than the fact Lovino just hated him. Couldn't the guy have just told him to pick something _on_ the menu? Half the time he never even told the Italian what he wanted, Lovino just always had it started by the time they were ordering appetizers.

"Fedya? What's wrong?" Ivan tilted his head in concern as they walked hand-in-hand.

"Oh, I was just remembering how I was banned from _Il Veneziano_," he pursed his lips, suddenly feeling glum.

"I see," Ivan smiled sympathetically. "There are are better restaurants. Let's go, we can find one together."

Peeking in the large windows, Alfred felt a bit jealous. He'd never been to this restaurant before, though Feliciano had mentioned a couple of times he'd love for them all to go. Relieved that the Italian was okay, apparently Feliciano wanted nothing to do with him as he responded to his texts with only one word. Ludwig was exactly the same, but that was typical for him. The whole thing just felt...off.

Now he was starting to see what Spider-Man dealt with, trying to be the hero but all your work was in vain. Not that he blamed the two, he did get caught and failed to help them. It was his fault for not being smarter or stronger, but at least they were alive and well, and that's really all that mattered.

Which made him wonder if his phone had lied to him.

_**January 3 14:03 [School - History Hall]**_

_**Feliciano is grabbed by the strange men and Ludwig is taken hostage. I have to help them!**_

Were they just let go afterwards?

Brushing off those thoughts, he observed how elegant the interior was. Very dimly-lit, the candle-lit tables were set up so formally and covered by a red cloth with exposed brick walls and hardwood floors that just made the area feel so _warm_.

Ivan seemed visibly uncomfortable, looking like he wanted to say something to get the golden-blond's mind off the place. "My love, is there no other place you'd rather eat?" The American turned to him, noticing the pleading look Ivan was giving him.

"You don't like this place?"

"I just think that," he paused, peeking behind Alfred. "We should support small business, da? This place is fine, but that place down the street seems quaint. Besides, you were banned by owner's son."

Nodding, thinking that the other made some very valid points, he allowed himself to be led to the other restaurant. And it was good food! They were given free bread and olive oil as an appetizer, he ordered delicious pasta meal, and they were served those mouth-watering Italian donuts after they finished. Ivan made a good choice.

They had fun too. Ivan could be such a sweetheart, it reminded Alfred of why he had missed his company so much when he broke off their friendship. There was just an incredible connection between them, Ivan always treated him in a way unlike anyone else. The way his eyes stayed fixed on him the whole time, making him feel like the other was attentively listening to every word he said - he was so used to people rolling their eyes the moment he opened his mouth or making mean-spirited jabs that this felt refreshing in comparison. They could joke and smile, and the way Ivan's face would soften lovingly as he gazed upon him made Alfred forget about the survival game, forget about everything, as he was too preoccupied by the butterflies in his stomach.

Maybe this was a date, though the timing was absolutely terrible, in a way it felt perfect. It was like the old days when he could go outside and not worry about someone trying to murder him. This was actually something he enjoyed very much. Maybe having a stalker wasn't so bad, as long as they were an Ivan Braginsky.

Though the question remained, why was Ivan so fixated on _him_ of all people in the first place?

.oOo.

The LIRR left them off at their stop, but suddenly Alfred got a text from Zwingli saying he got held up by some work, that he stumbled on something big and therefore wouldn't be able to pick them up for a while.

Annoyed since he lived a bit away from the train station and really didn't want to walk alone at night, Ivan smiled at him comfortingly. "I live not too far, we can stop by my place and I drive you home."

Intrigued as he saw a rare opportunity to get to know the other more, he accepted. They walked a bit on the road before going through the park, Alfred appreciated that the stars were much brighter here than in the city, his gaze roaming the sky: North Star, Orion, Pegasus…

Ivan giggled and Alfred turned to him confused. "The stars are in your eyes," he explained.

Blushing because _god_ that sounded romantic, he mumbled a small "T-thanks." There was a silence between them, only the wind brushing against branches and their footsteps as they walked along the dark path. Biting his lip, Alfred determined it was either now or never. "I-Ivan?"

"Yes?"

"Why _me_? And don't say it's because I'm your sunshine or something like that. I want an actual answer."

A small smile curled on Ivan's lip as he looked at the ground, his eyes hazy. "You treated me so kindly," he admitted, voice soft and gentle. So _genuine_. "And then you gave me a reason to keep existing."

Blue eyes widened. Had Ivan been suicidal? Shit, he felt _terrible_. "Oh, Ivan...I-"

Ivan stopped and moved closely in front of him, a heartfelt gleam in violet eyes and he clasped Alfred's hand in both his own and pressed it against his heart. "Being here, being with _you_, it makes me so happy. When you smile and laugh, I want to see and hear it forever. When you are scared or sad, I want to destroy whatever made you feel that way. I would do _anything_ for you, you are my everything."

Hearing that made the corner of Alfred's eyes sting. No one had ever said anything so romantic to him his entire life. Other guys he dated had been so crude and dismissive, and the few girls had been too shy or self-absorbed to say much. Ivan just had a way of making him feel _special_.

"Iv, I-"

"Call me Vanya," Ivan interrupted softly, eyes half-lidded.

Alfred replied with a playful grin. "Vanya."

A content smile curved on the Russian's mouth before he craned his neck forward. This time Alfred closed the gap between them, with a small bounce on his toes he planted a quick, chaste kiss of his own on Ivan's lips. Pleasantly surprised as a wide smile grew on his face, Ivan took note of the soft blush on Alfred's cheeks and coy smirk. As much as he would've loved to go in for more, he was delighted with what he received, especially since Alfred never took the initiative. Any progress in their relationship was still progress.

It wasn't long until they found themselves at Ivan's house. It was a small and plain one-story, with yellow sidings and white windows with red shutters. The lawn lacked curb appeal as it was wild and untamed, with Ivan's outdated Impala resting in the driveway without garage. A modest, lower-middle class home, but for some reason it looked familiar to Alfred. Like he'd seen it before.

Ivan pressed a button on his keys to unlock the car, but Alfred was eager to see more into the other's life. He'd learnt so much about Ivan today, he didn't want to stop when a huge opportunity was so close! After all, the older teen had seen his room many times, why couldn't he see his?

"Actually, can I use your bathroom first?" Alfred asked, a simple and realistic question.

Opening his mouth to say something, Ivan furrowed his brows and decided against it. "Ah, I suppose so…" Why did he seem so reluctant?

The platinum-blond locked the car as he made his way to the front door, twisting the keys and pushing it open. Alfred was surprised as he went in, the house was sparse with furniture, all of it was old and worn, probably either inherited or bought used. It was so much different than his modern colonial home which had been built specifically for them and therefore had updated appliances and new furniture. Though he and his father weren't fond of older houses as they were creepy, this one was very modest and cozy.

Embarrassed, Ivan scratched his cheek. "I-is not much, but welcome!"

"No, it's cute. I really like it," he smiled, answering honestly.

"Thank you…"

"Is your guardian home?" He'd like to meet the person and get an idea into the other's home life.

"He is not here, I mostly live by myself," Ivan admitted, his index finger idly drawing shapes into the couch.

"I see…" he smiled sadly. The two were the same in that regard, though at least most of the time Alfred had Matthew to keep him company. He couldn't imagine being completely alone, especially when he had been on the verge of losing it when Matthew was busy with Tim the past couple of months. Shaking away those thoughts, he decided the room needed light and went to the nearest switch.

Nothing happened when he flicked it. "Uh, the light's not working…"

"Oh...I suppose he forgot to pay the electricity bill. Next time I see him, I will remind him."

So there was neglect too, Alfred thought grimly, eyes downcast. He hadn't realized the other had it so rough. Looking around, he searched for something that would buy him more time to check the rest of the place out. "Do you have any snacks? Desserts?"

"Hm?" Ivan blinked in surprise. "I believe we have brownie mix and we use gas oven...would you like me to make it?"

"That would be perfect, Vanya," he noticed the way violet eyes brightened, as though glad to finally have company over. If he wanted one so bad, he should've just invited him sooner! Though he wondered if the reason he hadn't was because he was embarrassed by the house as it was a dwarf in comparison to his own. He should've known Alfred wouldn't judge! Even the American had humble beginnings - there was a time he, his twin, dad, mom, Francis _and_ aunt Marianne all lived in a shitty, cramped apartment in Queens. It was like _Full House_, except everyone spoke French besides him and his father.

Suddenly remembering they were inside for a reason, Alfred quickly focused on his cover up to avoid letting Ivan catch on to what he was doing. "So, where's the bathroom?" Hopefully Ivan hadn't checked his diary, in fact, they had both done so sparingly today. It was a nice change to not stress over the future, rather they spent their outing enjoying every moment.

"Ah, da! Just down that way, sorry," Ivan pointed toward a hall behind Alfred. "Second door to right. I will be baking you delicious treat in meantime," he grinned confidently.

'_You do that,_' Alfred nodded in response before heading in that direction, peeking over his shoulder to make sure Ivan had turned the corner and disappeared into the kitchen, conveniently out of his line of sight. _Perfect_.

He opened the first door on the left: a closet. Closing it gently, he moved to the first door on the right: a bedroom. Curiously, he stepped in. It was rather plain, with a light blue, floral wallpaper and very traditional, wooden furniture. Everything reminded him of his Meme's home in Canada - very grandmotherly and antique. Quietly making his way to the dusty, vintage dresser and mirror, he noticed some jewelry and make-up sprawled along the wooden top. That was odd, Alfred swore he heard Ivan say his guardian was a 'he'...and then his eyes caught the picture wedged into the lower corner of the mirror.

It was faded, having seen better days, and of a lower quality like most pictures from the early 2000s. Alfred smiled fondly as he distinguished a much younger, adorable Ivan situated between a slightly taller girl with blond hair braided into a bun and sweet blue eyes, who must've been his older sister, and a toddler with shaggy, light blond hair adorned with a big, blue bow, her dark blue eyes glaring at the camera as she latched on to Ivan's arm. They were standing in front of a porch belonging to an old-fashioned, two-story, wooden farmhouse, and Alfred could identify a dark brown barn and forest in the far back. They were dressed warmly and considering the snow on the ground, he surmised this was them at their home back in Russia. It was endearing to have a brief glimpse into Ivan's childhood, however there was _one_ thing that put him off.

How miserable and exhausted these children all were.

Backing away from the mirror, he pulled out one of drawers and frowned when he saw their contents. Bras? Okay, so this _had_ to be one of Ivan's sisters room...Ivan told him they stayed behind in Russia. Did she come here and then go back? Closing the drawer, he pulled another one. The whole thing was full of womens clothes. Did she just leave everything behind? That meant she had an intention of coming back, so why did Ivan make it seem like she was gone for good?

Leaving the room, he skipped the bathroom door and instead went for the one right after. As he made his way for the knob, a small thump snagged his attention. He turned and looked down at the source.

A cat. A big, fluffy, dark-furred cat. Just pawing at a door that was perpendicular to a partially opened one. Moving toward it, he peeked inside - it was just a bedroom, the master bedroom it seemed. Glancing back at the cat, he gaze flicked up to the door the feline was trying to enter.

Either Ivan's room was this one or the one he'd just skipped, but curious, he decided to assist the cat. Quietly, he opened the door just to see a staircase that led to a cold, dark basement. He wondered if the reason the cat wanted to go downstairs was for the litter box, as that's where his family kept theirs.

Ugh, it smelt _terrible_ down there. Did Ivan not clean the damn thing?

The cat was overwhelmed by abhorrent stench and scampered into the nearby bedroom. Feeling sorry for the little guy, he decided to inspect the damage so he could give Ivan an earful on how to properly care for your furry friend. Pressing his coat sleeve against his nose and remembering the power was gone after flicking the lightswitch, he turned on his phone's flashlight and descended downward, trying not to make too much sound on the creaky, wooden staircase. God damn, older houses were _terrifying_, he shook away any scary thoughts that would've deterred him from his goal. This was for the cat, he reminded himself. He made his way downstairs, light shining on the ground as he searched for the litter tray. Instead he found dried stains on the floor, face wincing in disgust. Did the cat just go on the floor? Gross.

But then he realized it was a reddish-brown, and his thoughts shifted to '_holy shit, is Ivan's cat _okay_?_'

There was something just barely out radius that reflected his phone's light and caught his attention, a sort of black, plastic sheet like the ones used for construction. Raising his flashlight up, he stilled in horror at what he saw.

_**-SHHHHHHBTTTTTTT-**_

Alfred let out a high-pitched scream that almost masked the sudden distortion of his phone.

_Dead bodies_. There were _dead bodies_ rotting away, faces sunken in to the point they were practically skulls with hair, a bony hand reaching out from beneath the plastic and _oh god oh god what the __**fuck-**_

Sobbing and hyperventilating, too shocked and dizzy, he held in his urge to throw up because what the _fuck_. Ivan had dead bodies in his basement. Trembling, he knew he had to get out of there; he had to go home, lock his door, and never see Ivan again because oh god the Russian was a fucking psychopath and _he could be his next victim-_

Taking a step back, he tripped over his own foot and staggered backward, only to be caught by a pair of strong arms hooking under his own. Looking from the corner of his eyes, he blanched as Ivan wrapped his arms around his torso and held him close, burying his face into the crook of Alfred's neck whilst shaking his head. "It was all going so well…" Ivan's voice was soft, frail, cracking at the edges as he trembled and gave a tight squeeze. "Why, Fedya? _Why_?"

Quaking with fear, Alfred was losing it. Worried that Ivan would turn on him next, he was desperate to leave _now_. Like hell was he going to die here and join _them, _whoever _they_ were. The Russian's past obsessions, maybe? Fuck that. Tearing himself out of Ivan's arms, ignoring how the other teen sobbed, begging him to not go, he bolted from the house. He didn't care if his home was a ways away, nor that it was fucking cold out - he ran as though his life depended on it, because it probably fucking _did_.

His lungs felt like they were on fire by the time he opened his front door, wheezing as he struggled to breathe. After locking the door, even using the slider for safe measure, he ran to the bathroom and grabbed his inhaler before he suffocated. Once his airways were cleared, he choked on a new wave of sobs, collapsing onto the tiled floor and hugging himself for comfort.

Matthew was at the door, having heard his brother come in. "A-Al?" Immediately he rushed to his twin's side. "Al, what happened? Alfie? What's wrong? Tell me!" His arms wrapped around Alfred, letting the younger twin rest his head on his chest as he ran his fingers through golden-blond hair, tears threatening to spill from his own eyes. "Alfie, _please_, talk to me. I can't see you like this, I want to _help_ you," he pleaded.

Alfred shook his head. "I can't do this, Mattie. I just _can't-_" his voice was weak, strained.

"Can't do what?"

"I'm just always so scared all the time, even when I think I'm safe I'm _not_," he gulped before heaving. "I don't like this, I don't like this, Mattie. _I don't want to die_."

"Shhhh," Matthew began rocking him. "You're not going to die, Al. Don't say things like that, _please_. You're okay, you're home with me."

Alfred cried harder, whimpering, until eventually passing out in his brother's arms.

.oOo.

Watching the phones of all the diary owners distort themselves simultaneously, Deus felt a twisted grin curve his face. Despite the sudden deterioration of his Cathedral and the demon in his servitude frantically swerving to avoid the collapsing rubble, the god knew this was a sign of things to come. The Causal Continuum was breaking down. This was..._exciting_. He knew Alfred had been the perfect contender, the boy always had a habit of making things interesting. This was no longer just a mere survival game...no, this was something much more grand and beyond his control.

He couldn't wait to see how things played out from here.

* * *

_A/N: JFC Alfred you're so nosy, no wonder you don't have many friends. Hope ya'll enjoyed this disaster of a date, there will be more eventually I assure you. _


	8. In the Depths of Hell Pt 1

_A/N: Get ready for some fanservice this chapter all because I saw came across some 'inspiring' fanart lol. I've tried to find it again but no luck, but the fact is that it's ingrained in my memory forever. _

* * *

**Chapter 8: In the Depths of Hell Pt. 1**

It had been almost two weeks since Alfred left the house, too paranoid to go outside. Hell, it was hard enough for him to leave his own bedroom, where even his once safe haven was now plagued with nightly terrors. The nightmares never stopped and occasionally in his sleep he'd feel something warm and firm restrain him, leaving him unable to move until he woke up in a cold sweat. In his opinion, those were the worst of all as they felt the most _real_.

If Matthew had been worried before, now he was seriously distressed over his brother's mental state. He called mum, dad, even Francis to beg them to come home and help, but his father was stuck overseas, his mother wasn't even sure she'd be back before the spring semester due to mémé's surgery, and his cousin wasn't picking up his goddamn phone. It broke his heart to see his brother constantly crying, not wanting to get out of bed, not even _eating_. This wasn't right, but he was all alone with no one to assist him in helping the other, making him feel absolutely _useless_. A part of him wanted to cry too, but he couldn't. Not when Alfred needed him.

It would be so much easier if the other just _talked_ to him.

Meanwhile, Alfred snuggled with Maple as he binge-watched _Disney_ movies. To say he was done crying was a fact, mainly because he had no more tears left to give. However, he still was frightened and miserable beyond all compare, having to constantly remind himself to stop trembling as it was bothering the cats.

_How could he have been so stupid_? To think he could fall in love with someone like Ivan? A stalker, _his_ stalker, who had corpses in his basement that were probably still rotting there this very moment?

There was just so much that didn't add up. For one, Ivan had plenty of opportunities to kill him if he wanted to. The Russian could've broken into his home while Matthew was with Tim and done away with him easily, he knew where he lived. He could've killed him in the abandoned warehouse before Third, it could've all been a trap in the guise of trying to save him only to get the final kill - but he hadn't. In school, Ivan had defended him fiercely as they snuck through the halls, waiting for a chance to escape. Hastily Ivan guided him to his phone when Ninth's escape plan put him in jeopardy, and as a result he came out of that confrontation _alive_. The other had the perfect opportunity to catch him off his guard when they were in Central Park, no one had been around, probably no one would've heard him scream...yet he _never_ took advantage of the situation unless it went along the lines of professing his love and utter devotion.

...Maybe Ivan's feelings were genuine? _Idiot, idiot idiot-_

Nothing made sense anymore.

His phone rang. Hesitantly, Alfred answered. "H-hello?"

"Alfred? Did I wake you up?" It was Zwingli.

"N-no, sorry. What's up?" He dreaded the answer.

"I have a plan to catch Sixth. I'm actually on my way to pick you up."

Making a face as he inwardly screamed, Alfred tried to contain his voice. "Oh, nice…"

"I'll be there in about ten minutes. See you soon," and then the officer hung up, leaving no room for excuses.

_Dammit_. After roughly rubbing his face with his hands for a solid minute, he got up and begrudgingly dressed himself for the day. Walking down the stairs he saw Matthew in the foyer getting ready to put on his boots.

Surprised, his twin nearly fell over. "A-Al? Where are you going?"

"Out, in a bit," he admitted with a careless shrug, playing it cool as though he hadn't been isolating himself for weeks. "What about you?"

"Groceries. We're running low," Matthew scratched his cheek nervously. "And I was going to see if I could maybe talk to Francis? He hasn't contacted me in three weeks. Have you heard anything from him?" Alfred shook his head before Matthew let out a heavy sigh. Being a caretaker was absolutely draining, but someone had to do it. "Where _exactly_ are you going?"

"Zwingli is taking me out again," he crossed his arms defensively, ignoring the dumbfounded expression on Matthew's face.

"No, why are you going out with him? Last time you went out him and Ivan you came home a mess. No, _no_. I refuse to let you go with him!"

"He's a cop, Mattie. I kinda have to."

"What? No, you have to have rights or something, going with him is obviously detrimental to your health. I won't allow this!"

'_Note to self: quit involving Matthew in your mental breakdowns._' "He didn't do anything to me, he's fine," other than set him up on a date with Ivan and call it being bait, but whatever. Looking out the narrow, frosted glass pane beside his door, he could see shapes and colors that must've been the cop's interceptor parking in their driveway. Unlocking and opening the front door, he could only confirm his suspicions.

Ivan got out of the back seat, smiling and waving to him innocently as if he wasn't a murderer with, once again, _dead bodies in his basement_. Alfred felt his heart sink and an oncoming wave of dread consume him. This was definitely going to be a long day, how he would survive it would remain a mystery.

'_Wait, did Zwingli know about the bodies?'_

Sending his brother a quick wave and ignoring his disapproving scowl, he shut the door behind him and approached the officer who leaned against the hood of his car. Blue eyes anxiously flickered to Ivan before he whispered in a low voice. "So, um, about two weeks ago...that night-"

"Dorogoy, please do not say such embarrassing things!" Ivan's cheeks were red, but there was a coy grin on his face as he pushed his index fingers together. God damn, his fucking _diary_. Alfred conveniently forgot it was solely fixated on him in his two weeks of isolation. "He does not need to know what we do in private, though I know you are excited to share!"

'_What the fuck is he insinuating?'_ Alfred thought with a furious blush, head whipping to the police officer who awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and averted his gaze. "I-I, _no_! It's not-"

Zwingli held up a hand. "Listen, I don't need to hear about your relationship. That's not what I'm here for. Just...I don't know...stay protected and get in the car, kid."

God _fucking_ dammit. Bitterly the American teen went to the back door and opened it, shooting Ivan a glare as he got inside and slammed it shut. As if he'd have sex with a _psychopath_ of all people. How could Ivan twist his words like that? To make matters worse, he embarrassed himself in front of the only adult helping him. Wonderful!

Ivan pouted like a child. "Fedya, are you mad with me?"

"Oh, you are so full of _bullshit_," he spat at the other before redirecting his eyes toward the window, gaze unwavering until they reached their destination.

.oOo.

Back at the precinct, the only difference was that this time Alfred saw many cops in their cubicles as they went in through a different entrance. The meeting room had been closer to the front, he noticed as they moved further in, going straight toward Zwingli's office as was marked by the nameplate beside his door.

Lifting a box onto his desk, Zwingli picked up one of the many folders stacked on top of it before handing it to Alfred. Opening and skimming its contents, the teen could only think one thing. _Oh_.

The officer decided to elaborate. "Though we have yet to put a face on the name, we've determined that Sixth is the leader of a criminal empire called 'De Imperii.' They were so underground that digging them up had been nearly impossible. Thankfully, Ninth has connections to the man in charge."

"You've been working with her?" Alfred frowned.

"Definitely not. Our investigation in your school left many answers, not to mention me personally taking on the case which allowed my diary to find anything and everything left behind. Though he may be careful, clearly there must've been a leak. Some confidential files were left on my desk a few days ago and it all adds up," he paused. "We have an address to their headquarters, and though we lack a name and face, we know that his associates call him Rex Omnibus - the King of All."

Ivan smirked, cracking his knuckles, and not for the first time did Alfred suspect the Russian knew more than he let on. "We will find him," he assured, eyes dark and cold. It was always unsettling to see the other so serious.

Eyes narrowing in suspicion at the taller's teen confidence, Zwingli shook his head to dismiss the thought that came to him before ripping the box open. "Though defenses and security are getting tighter, that also leaves room for opportunity. It seems as though Sixth has been hiring more men beyond just his 'family' for backup. I see fired security guards, ex-mercenaries, criminally discharged veterans...there's an opening for us to sneak in. I asked Deus if it was possible for diaries to reveal someone's physical description and he said no. Diaries only refer to owners as their number, and that's only _after_ they've been identified as such. The only person who saw Ivan and I was killed by Elisabeth and they were given no opportunity to report back."

Alfred pursed his lips. "Well, he must know who I am considering he came after me and Ninth. I don't see what I can do that's secretive."

"On the contrary, he may have no clue what you look like and only deciphered where you would be by following Ninth."

"Oh...but they captured me."

"Did they happen to attack you before or after your diary changed?"

Alfred chewed on his lip, "Not until after."

"And did they hear it?"

"I think so?" He turned to Ivan unsurely, who nodded in response.

Basch rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he skimmed through his own diary and notes. "There were no extensive radio transmissions traced from his men during the incident and nothing of the sort is reported in my diary - Sixth made sure to cover all of his bases. This leads me to believe they were given instruction beforehand to search for someone who was being trailed by Ninth as well as to inspect phones and listen for any distorted sounds...you were just the one that happened to check all three. It was only after you were captured and your phone taken they were able to confirm you were First."

Pausing for a moment, Alfred raised a brow. "How do you just _know_ all this stuff?"

"Hm?" Zwingli glanced up. "Oh, well I'm the captain of the detective division. It used to be my job to put clues together before my promotion, though I still get called to do fieldwork every now and then when the need arises."

"So, you're certain I won't be recognized?"

"I never said that, but I _will_ say that the likelihood is on par with Ivan and me."

That was somewhat comforting. Not perfect, but he could work with it. "Alright, so what are we doing? Disguising ourselves as hirelings?"

The cop coughed into his fist awkwardly. "Ivan and I will be taking on the job of hired mercenaries."

"Okay, so what am I doing?" If he was lucky, nothing.

"Though security is given access to plenty of areas, there are many that are still restricted...however, it seems that housekeeping is given a bit more leniency..."

Frowning, Alfred crossed his arms, eyes darting to the Russian and back. "Uh, okay? Why can't I be a mercenary?"

Zwingli attempted a smile, but it was much too tight to be sincere. "Alfred, to put it lightly, you _very_ much lack the qualifications necessary. This isn't some masquerade ball, you actually need the skills and experience or we'll be discovered immediately."

That was actually a good point. Zwingli was an actual cop, and Ivan was, well, _Ivan_. Disgruntled, he accepted cleaning duty, but like hell was he folding laundry. "Fine, let's just get this thing over with."

Out of the box, the cop fetched sealed plastic bags filled with black and white clothes and handed them to the boys before grabbing his own and leading them to the restroom. Picking the cleanest stall and getting in, Alfred disrobed himself, then ripped into the plastic wrapping and pulled out the uniform, only to pale when he saw what it was.

A French maid dress. "Mr. Zwingli, what the hell is this!" The remaining contents in the bag were white stockings, a white, frilly headband, and fucking. Lace. _Panties_.

A pair of heeled mary-janes were slipped under his stall. "Here, they should be in your size."

"That doesn't answer my question!" Alfred whined as he glowered at the shoes, completely distraught.

Zwingli let out a deep exhale. "Those are what were given to me by the person hiring."

"They know I'm a guy, right?"

"Is everything alright, sunflower?" Ivan asked from the next stall over.

"Yes, they know. There's no distinction between the men and women uniforms. I didn't mention this before because I knew you'd be like this, but they're very selective with their housekeeping staff. Apparently Sixth only likes to employ attractive, young individuals. Congratulations kid, you fit the cut."

Alfred couldn't help but mutter 'dick' under his breath as he slipped on the knee-length black dress and white apron, then held on to the stall for support as he exchanged underwear. Thankfully he was given a men's set as it meant just a _bit_ more cover, though that didn't mean much in the long run. He pulled up his stockings before slipping his feet into sleek, black shoes and tightening their buckles. The lacy headpiece was simple enough to put on, but he needed a mirror to make sure it looked right...and he really didn't want to leave his stall.

Taking in a deep breath, he unlocked the door and opened it, eyes glancing up to see his reflection. Dismayed as he approached the mirror, he lamented over his appearance. Not that there was anything wrong with looking pretty, but the maid costume was _humiliating_. Gently his fingers tweaked the headband and fixed his bangs so it sat right, only for him to turn and see Ivan emerge from his stall in a handsome business suit and tie while his scarf remained wrapped around his neck.

"You should take that off," Zwingli frowned as he glanced up from adjusting his own tie.

"Nyet, I-" Ivan paused, eyes fixed on Alfred as his face turned beet red. "Fe-Fedya?" He squeaked, and the golden-blond could only hide his face in his hands.

"S-shut up!" Oh god, he was absolutely mortified, especially since his _stalker_ was the one to see him like this.

Ivan immediately rushed into his personal bubble, forcing both hands away from his face and holding them down tightly. "Y-you look beautiful!" He spluttered, eyes taking in all of the American way too eagerly for his liking.

Zwingli rolled his green eyes, exhausted. _Teenagers_. "Yes, you look great, but if you two lovebirds don't mind this is a _mission_. Try not to get too carried away."

.oOo.

Arriving at the building they were told was Sixth's headquarters, Alfred suddenly felt very agitated about things going forward, not at all liking the idea of being separated from everyone while in enemy territory. Ivan had been against the plan as well, but when Zwingli ordered him to come up with a better one as the only reason they were doing this in the first place was because it was _his_ demand in the alliance, he remained silent and glared daggers at the Swiss man.

At least his uniform had a deep pocket where he could store his diary and not worry about losing it. And now that he was solo, Ivan couldn't keep ogling him. The glass was half-full.

As a maid, Alfred had to go through different entrance and endure an entire orientation process. The person who was assigned to mentor him was a cute girl named Michelle, with tan skin, light brown eyes, and brown hair pulled into two pigtails with red ribbons. She seemed maybe a year or two older than him and was extremely nice and friendly. As she showed him around they got along pretty well and not once did she point out how ridiculous he looked - something he was extremely thankful for.

First things first: the tour.

The townhouse was exactly what he expected from Manhattan's Soho district. The exterior blended in with the other buildings on the block; decently-wide, six stories, brick. But the inside was _insane_ \- massive, luxurious and excessive. Though Alfred lived comfortably with the income his parents brought home, this was too overwhelming. A spa and pool, a theatre, a gym, an atrium_, an elevator_. A rooftop terrace garden that overlooked the city. Crystal chandeliers? Intricate wood-carved ceilings and crown moldings? His home probably costed $850k. This one? At _least_ $60 million.

What the fuck did Sixth do to become a part of the 1 percent? Was this all a result of his criminal empire or something more?

Not to mention all the other workers he met. Chefs and cooks, a few butlers, a gardener, and financial advisors that hardly spared him a glance other than to check him out. There were a few occasions he met a couple of the other housemaids - one guy and two girls, and there were plenty of bodyguards. He had yet to see Ivan and Zwingli, which was concerning as he'd rather not be trapped alone in the outrageously expensive labyrinth if he could help it.

"I know it can be a lot to take in, but I'm sure you'll get used to it in time. I know I did," Michelle smiled at him earnestly.

"Yeah, thanks," Alfred paused, taking in the elegant atmosphere. He really hoped he didn't accidentally break something like a marble bust or a faberge egg, it would definitely be worth more than his own life. "What are we doing today?"

"We'll be doing most of our work today in the bedrooms. So sweeping the floors, dusting the furniture, changing the sheets, making the beds, washing the windows, scrubbing the mirrors, picking up dirty clothes, some laundry, and the like. If the Dominus or his close associates want us to deliver them their meals, then we will. It's a busy job, but it's not too hard. Fortunately we are working together today so it'll be much easier, but usually we're each given a designated area for the day."

Alfred hid his pain behind a smile. Holy crap, there were like nine bedrooms in this fucking mansion! Here Ivan and Zwingli got to walk around with guns and patrol whereas he had to work until his hands fell off. How much was he getting paid for all this labor? Right, this wasn't a real job. _He was undercover so he wasn't going to get paid at all_. This really, _really_ sucked ass. "Alright, lead the way!"

Michelle led him to the first bedroom. It was big for a guest suite and way over the top. She led him to the bed, "Alright, you start stripping the sheets, I'll be right back with fresh ones."

With a heavy sigh and some mental cursing, he went to work.

.oOo.

Ivan sent Zwingli a glance as they navigated through the 'secret' cellar beneath the manor. They were only supposed to know a couple of routes for easier navigation in the case of a break-in, but the Russian was no fool. What they were being shown was merely the tip of the iceberg, a small part of an integrated system with plenty of secret passageways only meant for those closest to the family. If he looked carefully enough, he could find them and sneak his way back to Alfred rather than be debriefed on how to do his nonexistent job. Simple security work - stay at your post, be on guard. In the case of an emergency, use your comms to alert the others and call for backup, remember all these numbers and codes...whatever.

Violet eyes glowered at the walls they passed. Who knew what illegal trades were going on within them? Maybe if he looked closely, he'd find weapons stored in the oddest of places!

And suddenly he found himself in a training room - an _armory_.

"Morozov," he turned to the supervisor addressing him by his alias and was handed a pistol. "Show me what you got."

Glancing at Zwingli who sent him a single nod, he took the gun and made his way to the line, aiming at the far-off target and firing a quick shot.

Bullseye.

.oOo.

Matthew knocked on the door to his cousin's apartment, each rap becoming more confident and annoyed the longer he waited in the hall. There were still groceries in the car that had to be put away, he was quickly losing his patience.

Exhausted, Francis opened the door a crack. "_Quoi?_"

"Don't 'quoi' me! Why are you ignoring me?" Matthew demanded. "I haven't heard a single thing from either you or Jeanne! There's a serial killer on the loose, could you _please_ be more considerate?"

"Ah, je suis désolé, Mathieu," Francis apologized, rubbing his temple. "Things have been quite...hectic, as of late."

"I know that, but I'm seriously concerned about Alfred-"

"I can't live the rest of my life taking care of you two," Francis snapped. "I have a life of my own, my own problems! You are both almost adults, and I am your cousin, not your father! Just because your parents are never around that does not make me a _surrogate_!" The Frenchman closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I love you both very much, and you two and tante Madeline have been more family to me than my own mother and sister, but it is not my responsibility to be your caretaker - that ended when I finished high school. And I do try to be there when I can, but this is all just too much for me to handle!"

Matthew was rendered silent, blinking back the tears that stung his eyes. He never knew Francis had felt that way regarding him and his brother - that they were _burdens_ to him. Coming here had been a mistake, as if he needed another painful reminder on how fragmented their 'perfect' family really was. "I-I'm sorry…."

"Non, _I_ am sorry. I shouldn't have said all that," Francis shook his head ruefully. "Serial killers, school invasions, and now these wild beasts terrorizing Jeanne's campus...just what is this neighborhood coming to?"

"Wild...beasts?" Matthew repeated slowly as he raised a brow. That was new, he had yet to hear or see anything concerning it.

Nodding, Francis grimaced. "Two bodies have been found around campus these past few weeks, apparently they were attacked by an animal. There is now a curfew and they've sent some officials to investigate, but the college is very determined to keep this quiet, which is why I'm not surprised you don't know about it," letting out a scoff, he continued bitterly,"just another problem added to the list."

"I-I see…" Matthew bit his lip. "Well, sorry for bothering you."

"Mathieu...what I said before, I didn't mean it. I'm just afraid, and I'm sorry, but this is beyond me. I cannot help you or Alfred, I hardly know how to help myself."

Nodding, Matthew understood where his cousin was coming from. Francis was twenty-two, a college student getting his Master's degree, just five years older than him and his twin. Sometimes it was easy to forget the other was still growing into adulthood, figuring things out for himself. It was wrong for him and Alfred to rely on him, and by that extent, for his parents to as well. After all, Francis had technically been doing their job for the past eight years...

Shoulders slumping in defeat, it was then Matthew realized that it was all up to him to protect Alfred. Mom and dad may have had everything handled financially, but it was clear to him that nobody else valued his twin's mental health. He and Alfred were truly on their own, with no one to count on beside each other...it was actually a very daunting epiphany. "I'll see you later, Francis," he answered solemnly, suddenly feeling dejected, before turning away and heading down the staircase without giving the other had a chance to respond.

Entering his car and turning on the engine, for a moment he sat in silence, completely at a loss on what to do. What _could_ he do? Alfred was going through trauma, and he so far his method of giving the other comfort and waiting for him to talk about his feelings was going absolutely nowhere. In fact, it seemed like everything was getting _worse_. Maybe it would be best to have another intervention? But Alfred always responded terribly to those...he just seemed to think that Matthew was always against him rather than trying to _help_.

Needing some company and emotional support, he sent Tim a quick message asking if the other could meet him at his house. Relieved when the other replied saying he'd be right over, he put the car in reverse and made his way home.

What he hadn't expected was to be greeted by his other best friend walking down the steps of his porch.

"Carlos?" Matthew raised a brow as he grabbed the groceries in the passenger seat and shut the car door before approaching the other. "What are you doing here? It's dangerous to be out alone with a killer still out there!"

"Mateo, I was wondering when you'd come back," Carlos responded with a small smile before letting out a sigh, following the other to the entrance. "It's just been a while since we've hung out, what with school being closed and all."

Twenty-one days to be exact, Matthew frowned. As Francis said, things were just so hectic lately, what with everything that had transpired these past few months. What was next? There always seemed to be something new and dangerous around the corner. "Sorry, I've been really busy taking care of Alfred...he hasn't been coping well with everything going on," he explained as he jammed his key into the lock and opened the front door.

"Ah," Carlos rolled his eyes as he entered his friend's home and shut the door behind them. "Your brother has always been such a drama queen."

"He was a hostage," Matthew glared at the other as he defended his twin, dropping his keys into their dish. "He could've been seriously injured or _worse_."

"None of that would've happened if he didn't run out of gym with Ivan," Carlos huffed, following his host into the kitchen. "Knowing him, he probably wanted to be a 'hero' or some shit like that. Un _idiota_, now freaking out because reality bit him in the ass."

"Alfred left during the lockdown...with Ivan…" Matthew's eyes squinted in suspicion, attempting to piece things together as he opened the fridge and put away certain foods. Why would Alfred have done such a thing? His brother may have had a reckless streak in him, but he wasn't stupid. "What happened in the locker room anyway? I remember you texting me when they broke in, but I was so worried about making sure you and Al were okay that I didn't ask for details."

Carlos shrugged. "They were threatening, yeah, but they just wanted to see our phones. As long as we complied, they said they wouldn't kill us. It wasn't a hard decision to make, a phone is nothing compared to your life."

Phones? Alfred was always obsessed with his phone, Matthew pursed his lips as tucked his reusable shopping bags back into their cabinet. Was there something on Alfred's phone he didn't want anyone else to see? Wait, how would his brother even have known that's what the terrorists were after? Rubbing his temple as he made his way back to the foyer, he realized there was no possible way Alfred could've unless he had some affiliation with the men involved...which might explain why Captain Zwingli was constantly picking him up...and why his twin seemed to be constantly stressed out of his mind.

"You okay?" Carlos raised a brow, noticing the other's face contort in distress.

"I'm just…" Shaking his head and wincing, Matthew let out a deep exhale as he sat on the stairs. "The more I piece together, the less sense it all makes. I think Alfred got himself into something deep, but I have no clue what."

"Oh, yeah! That reminds me-"

A knock on the door startled them.

"It's Tim," Matthew recognized his friend's shape through the frosted glass.

Nodding, Carlos moved forward and opened the door with a grin. "Hola, compadre? Que tal?"

"I'm good," Tim responded with a nod, green eyes immediately fixed on Matthew as he stepped in. "So, what's up?"

"I'm just super stressed with everything going on. Alfred's not doing well, Francis is sick and tired of being responsible for us, mom and dad are far away…" Anxiously tugging his hair, he continued. "We have no leads on the serial killer, no information on the guys who raided our school, and now apparently wild animals are killing students at the local college?"

"Huh..." Tim pursed his lips in thought.

"How is that possible? We don't live near a forest," Carlos sent Matthew an incredulous look. If they lived upstate, that would make a believable story, but they lived in Long Island where there were no bears, wild felines, or coyotes. "If anything, it's probably a rabid fox or raccoon. There's not much else it _could_ be."

Lowering his arms, Matthew turned to Tim desperately. "You go there, what do you think?"

Scratching his chin, the other answered. "Yeah, I heard about it. I just assumed what Carlos said, but hearing you say it all together like that makes me wonder if we're underestimating the situation."

"What do you mean?"

"Ah, well it's a bit hard for me to piece together, but there's this British kid in one of my classes who's really into that detective stuff. He's kind of an oddball and loner, skips a lot too even though the semester only just started. When the professor asked him why I overheard him saying he was doing an important investigation," he shrugged. "I've seen him wandering around campus after hours, so maybe there's more to this thing than we think? That, or he's just an idiot who's going to get himself killed."

"You think these wild animals have ties to the serial killer?" Matthew sent the other a doubtful frown.

"Think about it. There are no wild animals here that would attack unless provoked. Maybe these animals aren't wild, maybe they're someone's pets and are _trained_ to hunt people."

That was a scary thought, Matthew grimaced. "So your theory is that the serial killer is trying out a new tactic…"

"It's either that or we have a copy-cat who wants to outdo the original," Tim added with a sigh. "This is too complicated for us alone, I should probably ask that guy if he has any leads."

"Yeah, maybe…" Matthew let out an annoyed groan. "Maybe we're in way over our heads. Alfred was right, we're _never_ going to catch this guy..."

A small silence passed between the three of them before Carlos spoke up. "You know, speaking of the serial killer, I'm starting to think señor Fernandez might be a victim too."

"Your Spanish teacher?"

"Yeah, see he's actually my neighbor and I haven't seen him at all since the day before the raid, but some guys in suits did come over to check out his house. And then the day of, we had a sub who ended up being the chick that evacuated us with the music teacher "

The woman he assisted in deactivating the bombs. The woman who triggered the landmines and nearly blew up his brother. Matthew furrowed his brows as a thought came to him. "Don't you and Alfred share Spanish together?"

"Yes, it was weird though. In the middle of class she went up to him because apparently señor Fernandez left him a note? He was really defensive about it, shot me a nasty look and everything," Carlos rolled his eyes.

Matthew narrowed his eyes. Why did it seem like Alfred had a connection with all of these people? The woman from the school, Captain Zwingli, the missing Spanish teacher, being selected as a hostage...what kind of mess did his twin stumble into making him stuck at the center of some interconnected web?

'_You will __**never**_ _find him.' _That's what his brother told him when he confessed he was trying to decipher the serial killer's identity. At first he assumed that his brother was doubting his capabilities, but now in hindsight, the way Alfred had said it was so certain - like he _knew_ something behind the scenes. What other secrets was he hiding? Just how involved in everything was he? And why was he keeping his own twin in the dark?

Tim noticed the way Matthew's jaw dropped as his indigo eyes widened with realization. "Matthew? What's wrong?"

"Alfred _knows_."

.oOo.

Michelle smiled at him apologetically as she held a filled hamper under her arm. "Do you mind being alone for a bit? I just want to get these fresh sheets on the bed, if that's okay."

"I think I can handle this," Alfred sent her a reassuring nod and she smiled gratefully before exiting the room, leaving the teen alone in what was practically a miniature laundromat. It had a row of _four_ washers surrounded by plenty of built-in counters and closet-space, and four dryers stacked 2x2 within a nearby wall. The wealth Sixth possessed continuously impressed him, as well as the amount of guests he had to have on a daily basis that would warrant _this_ much fucking clothes, uniforms, and bedsheets to be washed. The _one_ thing he didn't want to do. Fuck his life.

As he focused on separating the colors from the whites, a sudden strike against the door startled him. Without waiting for his response, it was pushed open.

"Il Rex wants to see you," said an intimidating man in a suit. "I'm here to be your escort."

_Shit_. Putting on his best customer service facade, Alfred smiled politely. "May I finish up the laundry? I almost have everything put away," he asked, pulling out his classic charm. Please say yes, for the love of god _please say yes_.

Seeing the guard's shoulders relax, his act proving to be extremely effective, the man nodded. "Very well, be quick. I'll be waiting outside for you."

"Thank you!" Alfred chirped as the man offered him a small, awkward smile before shutting the door gently. Once hearing footsteps descend down the hall, his arm rested on the nearby counter to prevent himself from collapsing as he released a deep exhale, dread looming over him. _What the fuck was he going to do?_ Was Sixth suspicious and wanted to question him? Did he catch on to their heist? If the other caught him with his phone, then it was all over. He wouldn't be able to sweet-talk his way out of anything. That was something he couldn't afford to let happen.

Instinct taking over, Alfred immediately rushed to the cabinets to the left of the sink and began searching for a place to hide his phone. Nothing but woven baskets filled with sewing materials and other useless shit, he scowled as he picked up a ziplock bag holding a few spools of thread and thimbles. Pausing on the plastic, an idea came to him. His gaze darted toward the washer. A very _stupid_ idea.

But he'd do anything to keep his identity safe from Sixth.

Taking the contents out of the bag, he set them neatly within the basket he found them in, attempting to make it look as though they had never been in the bag in the first place. _Good enough_. Though his phone and casing were already waterproof, the baggie just offered him extra protection. He was risking it all to not risk it all, if that made any sense. There were certain precautions he wanted to take in order to do this correctly. Ugh, but the _sound_. Someone would be able to hear his phone bouncing within the cylindrical area as the washer did its cycle, they might grow suspicious and check it out. _Think think think-_

Socks. There was a hamper filled with white socks beside him. Not caring if they were clean or dirty, he picked one up and widened the opening, slipping his phone inside. Maybe it was best if he double-stacked. Or tripled, quadrupled, however many it took to make his phone a giant wad of cotton. By the time he finished, he couldn't even feel his phone anymore, it was like a minuscule sleeping bag. _Perfect_. But he couldn't just put this one thing in the washer, it needed to be well hidden. His heart swelled with joy as his eyes landed on a thick, white comforter. Placing his protected phone within it, he folded it roughly between many layers and then shoved it into the washer, slamming the door after.

Holy _shit_.

"Are you almost done in there?" The man called out to him.

"Yeah, almost done!" Alfred replied as he set a timer on the washer. An hour should be enough time for him to get back before it started. If not, then he would have to hope all his extra effort paid off.

Approaching the door, Alfred took a deep breath before opening it, donning his sweetest smile. "Sorry," he apologized innocently.

Shaking his head and waving his hand reassuringly, the man offered a small grin back. "It wasn't too long of a wait, you're fine. We just have to pick up the pace getting there."

Nodding, Alfred followed the other down the hall, trying to restrain himself from making any anxious gestures. Time to put all those years of acting to the ultimate test.

He bet Ivan and Zwingli didn't have to deal with this shit.

.oOo.

_**shhhhhBBBTTT-**_

Alert, Ivan pulled out his phone and flipped it open as Zwingli immediately raised his pistol to their supervisor's head before the man had any time to react. Relieved that Alfred didn't suddenly have a dead end, something else caught the Russian's eye.

**24 January [11:30]**

**Fedya threw his phone in the leftmost washer and set a timer for one hour.**

_What?_ But why would he...scrolling down, his violet eyes widened.

_No_.

The way Ivan's irises constricted with a crazed gleam seriously concerned Zwingli. What disturbed him even further was when the teen raised his gun in a rapid motion and pressed the trigger without hesitation, eyes never leaving his screen, a single BANG blowing a hole in between the guard's eyes.

"Are you crazy? Do you have any idea what you've done?" Zwingli barked at him as the man fell over dead. "I'd be surprised if we didn't have a whole squadron on their way to kill us now!"

Ivan shot him a sneer. "I am done playing your game," he went to the wall where there were plenty of weapons on display, pulling a sub-machine gun off the rack. "I do this my way," he checked for ammo. Seeing that its magazine was empty, he took the time to find extra cartridges and restock it.

"Think realistically! You think you can just go out there and fight them all yourself?"

"Da," Ivan grinned widely, eyes bright with an excited bloodlust. "I have been waiting for this moment for so long."

Zwingli could only stare at the other with a perturbed grimace. What the hell was _wrong_ with this kid? To think Alfred had to put up with him more than he did. Shaking his head and letting out a scoff, he picked up a DMR. "Very well, while you do whatever, I'll try to secure us an exit. Just try not to die."

Ivan smiled sweetly in return. "I will not be the one who dies today."

.oOo.

Gestured toward the door, Alfred sent his escort a polite nod before opening it cautiously, fingers trembling as his nerves finally got to him. Behind this door was the man who said he wanted to be the one to kill him, the one who sent his men to invade his school and murder him, prepared to kill and blow up anyone who got in his way…

Taking a deep breath, he made his way inside. An open billiards room, okay. It was traditional like what he'd seen in the movies, with wood panel walls and a pool table resting on a beautifully large, Persian rug that extended into a seating area. The clinking of glass from a joint room made him raise his head to an archway perpendicular to a lavish, marble fireplace with intricate reliefs embedded into the mantle. This man dipped his wealth everywhere he could, didn't he?

Taking steady steps into the next room, he was greeted by a candle-lit table, a vase of red roses, and an expensive bottle of alcohol. _Huh? _

"Alfredo, was it?" Blue irises glanced up to a handsome man in a white suit smirking at him, a glass of sparkling champagne in one hand while amber eyes twinkled in amusement. "I've been meaning to meet you for a while."

The teen paled as he recognized the adult seated on the opposite end of the table. They may have never met personally, but he'd seen the other in passing, mostly on TV and in pictures around the restaurant or his friend's house...

The famous chef and businessman Romulus Vargas, father of Feliciano and Lovino, was the Sixth diary owner.

Alfred actually forgot to breathe.

* * *

_A/N: Yay, finally a hint to Arthur since he's a major character in this story even though it's been eight fucking chapters...and we still have to wait a ways before he makes a formal appearance. Fortunately, he's in the role of my fav character from Mirai Nikki, if that brings some multi-shippers any comfort. _

_So, next chapter things are gonna get dark. Like really fucking dark. Let's just say it's a metaphor, like how the Romans had a huge influence on American culture, Romulus here is gonna have a pretty heavy influence on Alfred's psyche moving forward. For those who watched Mirai Nikki, this is meant to mirror episodes 4 and 5, so YEAH, one of the warning tags is gonna apply. The more you know. _

_See y'all for part 2. _


	9. In the Depths of Hell Pt 2

_A/N: So some of you may have noticed that I tweaked the title and made this part of a series. Well, that's because I realized there is NO way I can fit everything into this one story alone, ESPECIALLY since the majority is in Alfred's perspective. Like, Ivan is way too complicated of a main character for that, he definitely deserves his own spin-off. Hell, this whole universe is pretty dense._

_This chapter is pretty long, I guess that makes up for my 3 month absence. I rewrote this many times, so I was definitely working on it. I just wasn't ever satisfied, so yeah, everything can still be improved, but I also really need to move forward so this is the end product._

_Also, TRIGGER WARNING again, this time for attempted rape/non-con. Again, it's mirroring a scene from the anime, so read at your own risk._

* * *

**Chapter 9: In the Depths of Hell Pt. 2**

**_[January 10th; 14 days ago] _**

Sebastian bowed his head politely. _"We've brought your eldest son, as was requested." _

_"Bring him in, it's been a while since we've talked," _Romulus waved his hand toward the door, relaxing in his seat before pouring himself a glass of red wine.

Nodding, his nephew left the office swiftly, only for Lovino to come in shortly after.

_"So, uh, nice place you've got…" _the young adult began awkwardly, hazel eyes absorbing the room and the excess wealth his father had kept hidden from him.

Smirking, Romulus switched from Latin to Italian. _"I'm sure you and your brother are happy in the abode I provided for you? Neither one of you would like it here...much too chaotic." _

_"Happy?" _Lovino scoffed. _"Feliciano has been miserable ever since the school was attacked! That neighborhood is nothing but trouble! Not only that, but I'm the one who has to take care of him since you don't even have the courtesy to check up on us! Enjoying your wine, papa? Well, we've been dealing with murderous stalkers and school shootings!" _

_"Let off some steam, have we?" _Romulus grinned, chuckling with amusement. Noticing the way Lovino glowered at him with frustration, he continued. _"Check up on you? Why would I need to do that when my eyes have never wavered?" _

_"...What?" _

_"You've always had my bodyguards watching over you. Believe me, had the serial killer made any attempt to harm you, I would've taken care of it instantly." _

_"Y-you knew the whole time!" _Lovino's eyes widened for a moment before narrowing. _"Then why have you do nothing to stop it? He's still out there as we speak, you could do something about it!" _

Unfortunate sacrifices were needed to lure Héderváry into their neighborhood, but Romulus remained stoic, face betraying nothing. _"I never said I knew the identity of the serial killer, I said I kept my eyes on _you_. My resources can only be extended to a few things outside of work, the rest must be prioritized accordingly." _Finally, he let out a perfected solemn sigh. _"I had hoped I could protect you from this harsh reality, but now I finally see you're no longer a child. You've grown attached to people you also seek to protect and I lack the perspective to help you in that regard. My apologies, but this only finalizes my decision." _

Lovino's shoulders relaxed, but he still eyed his father warily. _"Decision?" _

With a nod, Romulus bit back a smirk. _"I want you to become my successor." _

_"You don't...you don't mean the restaurant, do you?" _His eyes were downcast, realization donning on him.

_"The restaurant is merely a front to the real source of our wealth," _Romulus confirmed, watching his son wince. _"But this is no surprise. In your heart you've always known, haven't you?" _

_"I had the feeling something was off...when our workers would go to the back room with strangers and talk, sometimes bringing in boxes and storing them in the cellar…" _

_"Yes, and I'm so proud of you for not saying anything to anyone. I know you have...strong feelings toward my line of work," _Lovino sent him a weak glare. That was an understatement. _"But think of this as an opportunity to protect the ones you care for. The people you love." _

_"I could...I could protect Alfredo?" _Lovino's eyes brightened.

Having heard this name in passing a few times before, Romulus' brows raised with curiosity. _"Isn't he Feliciano's classmate? Pray tell, why would the serial killer be after him?" _

_"I…" _Flustered, Lovino grumbled under his breath. _"Everyone the serial killer murdered, they were people I liked…whoever they were, they didn't want me around anyone." _

This was a fact the crime lord was aware of, but he feigned ignorance. _"Very well, but if this Alfredo were in danger, wouldn't he have been attacked long ago?" _

Flinching, the younger Italian averted his gaze. _"Back in November, after what happened with...Emma...I was really scared he'd be next. I couldn't let that happen, so I told him he was banned from the restaurant...that I hated him. It hurt to say, but at the time it was the only way I could keep him safe..." _

_"I see," _Romulus put down his glass and leaned back in his chair, fingers laced together. _"Then yes, with my power extended to you, you will be able to keep an eye on him. Who else is aware of your feelings?" _

Blushing, he rubbed his neck awkwardly. _"Ah, well, I haven't told anyone except you...but I'm certain Feliciano and Antonio have figured it out." _

_"Antonio?" _The teacher from the school Héderváry had been investigating? Who had coincidentally missed work the day after Third's death...

Oblivious to the way his father's eyes clouded in thought, Lovino let out a sardonic chuckle. _"Yeah, that bastard. It's strange...he hasn't visited me in weeks even though he always comes over for a meal. I told him I wasn't safe to be around, but he never listened! It's his own fault if the serial killer got him too...I just - I really hope he's okay…" _his voice grew small, chewing on his lip as he worried over the possibility of his close friend being another victim.

At this, all of Romulus' suspicions had been confirmed and all the pieces were falling into place. Third had been Antonio, Héderváry had been tracking him as the serial killer. Third was killed by First who was helped by Second. Héderváry knew First was a student at the school. Alfred was a student at the school. Third had a reason to continue his pursuit of Alfred once the survival game started. After all, who cared about morals and restraint when the end of the world was only 110 days away? When the title of God of Time and Space was on the line?

Which only meant one thing: Alfred was quite possibly First. Of course, he'd have to do some research of his own. Have some of his men search Antonio's property, see if an image of Alfred matched the silhouette of the scared child he saw in the Cathedral of Causality. The cowlick would be a dead giveaway, he mused as his lips twisted into a grin.

_"If just one person...if Alfredo can live, then maybe I'm not such a burden after all..." _his son's voice broke his train of thought.

Killing the boy immediately would be a waste, especially if his diary was as good as Deus implied. Lovino also deserved another reward; his job distracting Third long enough to attract Ninth had been a worthy cause to join their famiglia, but his contributions for discovering the identity of First when his raid had failed? That was enough for him to consider sparing Alfred's life until the kid outlived his usefulness.

The other King on the board was left exposed. _Checkmate_.

.oOo.

**_[January 24th; Present Day] _**

"Well?" Mr. Vargas' eyes flickered to the chair. "Aren't you going to join me?"

_'Act natural. You don't know anything,' _Alfred cautioned himself, steadily pulling the chair back and taking a seat. Amber eyes remained fixed on him, as did his smirk. Though he practically had the same physical features as his sons, the teen couldn't imagine that expression on either of them. It was uncanny to see something so...cocky, dare he say _lubricious_, on a face he normally saw as grouchy or cheerful.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" The man teased in a flirtatious tone.

Blushing with discomfort, Alfred stared at the fidgeting hands resting on his lap. "S-sorry, sir."

"Nothing a bit of alcohol can't help," Romulus picked up the bottle and poured the sparkling liquid into his empty Venetian flute. "Here, try my champagne."

Alfred really didn't want to. "I can't."

"Oh?" The crime lord perked up with an amused expression. "Why is that?"

"I'm underage," he responded simply, fingers anxiously gripping the edge of his skirt.

"Of course. You're the same age as my dear Feli, if not a bit younger. Correct?" At this, Alfred nodded, risking a glance up. "Ah, it can be our little secret then," Romulus winked, and the teen managed a meek smile knowing there was no way he'd get around the other's hospitality.

Picking up the glass, Romulus raised his own and gave him an expectant look. Confused, Alfred remained still until the other clinked their glasses together. "Oh, that's what you meant..." The teen muttered as he stared at his drink in embarrassment before bringing it to his lips.

"A toast to your new job here," the man explained, watching the other take a gulp and make a face as the liquid burned his throat. Mr. Vargas chuckled, "Was that your first time?"

"No," Alfred admitted as he set the drink down. "But it's been a while," he eyed the other suspiciously. "Do you normally do things like this for your employees?"

"Only when they're worthy of my attention," his eyes were dark and the grin curving his lips was too sultry for comfort.

Alfred stilled, feeling awkward and increasingly uncomfortable with the sudden tension in the room. Was it sexual? Was it because he was in the same room as the man who threatened to kill him and then attempted to? Who knew? Taking a deep breath, he did what was easiest and ignored the atmosphere. If Sixth was trying to make him feel vulnerable, he just had to show the other that he was too oblivious to be fazed by that sort of tactic. People like Sixth fed on fear, they derived power from their dominance over others. Alfred just needed to lower the man's guard, make him think he was your typical dumb blond, then be sent on his merry way once the other realized he wasn't a threat. "I don't think doing laundry and making beds warrants a fancy dinner with _the _Romulus Vargas."

"Ah, perhaps not," the celebrity cocked his head to the side. "But then again, you are no ordinary person, _First_."

He knows. He fucking _knows_. Mentally, Alfred cursed Zwingli for giving him a false sense of security. "What are you talking about?" he pretended to be confused. If there was the slightest chance to convince Mr. Vargas he was mistaken, he was taking it.

"You're very easy on the eyes, I can see why my son likes you, but surely you don't believe that was the only reason you were hired?" Romulus chuckled. "I've caught on to your little heist. You, Fourth _and _Second have merely fallen into another one of my traps."

So many questions swirled in Alfred's head. How did the crime boss catch on to their plan? Where did he get all his information from? The teen was completely blindsided, his mouth dry as he struggled to maintain his composure.

"To think you almost succeeded had I not had a wildcard in my hand. Ah, but don't feel discouraged, I don't intend on killing you. I simply want you to do me a favor."

"A _favor_?" Alfred repeated, his voice cracking resulting in his cheeks to flush.

Romulus grinned, the strange glint in his eye didn't go unnoticed.

.oOo.

"Are you going to kill me?" The sarcasm wasn't missed.

Zwingli narrowed his eyes as his finger gently rested against the trigger of his DMR, the barrel aimed toward Ninth's chest. The woman's arms were casually raised in surrender, the only reason he hadn't shot her dead yet. "Give me one reason I shouldn't eliminate you right now."

"Fourth," Elisabeth attempted a tight smile. "You'd be dead had I not intervened."

"I had everything handled," the detective answered, tone dripping with annoyance. "For all I know, that grenade could've been aimed at me."

"You're alive, aren't you?" She rolled her eyes. "You know my strengths. I didn't _have _to go out of my way to help you."

"And what reason do you have for that?" Zwingli raised a brow.

Elisabeth shrugged carelessly. "I want a truce, nothing more."

"Oh, how far you've fallen. Relying on me for help," the detective taunted with a sneer, relaxing his posture as he lowered his gun slightly.

"I had everything under control until you and Second riled up security," Ninth huffed indignantly, crossing her arms. "The two of you shouldn't even be here. You've ruined everything I've been working for. I could've had the advantage!" Pinching the bridge of her nose, Elisabeth let out a heavy sigh. "If you want to get rid of Sixth, we're going to have to work together."

Zwingli stared at her dismissively. "That's not my job at the moment. I'm securing an exit for the others."

"Assuming they're not dead yet," the woman scoffed. "There's no way they'll make it anywhere near Sixth without my files, it took me over a decade to get that data."

"I wouldn't underestimate Second," Zwingli furrowed his brows. "That kid single-handedly purged Sixth's men on the day of the raid. There's something not right about him, he's _dangerous_. There's no way he'll go down easily."

"That means nothing if he doesn't know about the secret passages. Sixth will always have the element of surprise, this place is New York's Murder Castle."

"I have my reasons to believe otherwise," Zwingli's eyes darkened. "Answer me this, were you the one who left a lead to Sixth on my desk?"

"What lead?" Elizabeth raised a brow. "You really think I would share my information with you? Not unless you agree to my truce."

"Thought so," the detective averted his gaze as a scowl marred his features. "I have no doubt that Second has a personal grudge against Sixth. There's a good chance that he's been preparing for this moment just as much as you."

"Then perhaps I should ally myself with _him_, considering how we both share a vendetta and all."

"I wouldn't dare approach him if I were you. I recall him mentioning how he wanted nothing more than to gut you for putting First's life at risk," Zwingli gave her a dry smirk.

"I have nothing against the kid, I just needed a diversion," she frowned. "It's not like you were going to let me go, am I right?"

"A criminal like you? No."

Elisabeth groaned in frustration. "You've read my profile, you've seen my contracts. You and I both know that all my targets got what they deserved," her gaze hardened. "I'm not your enemy. We both want justice, even if our methods don't always coincide."

Zwingli lowered his arms, barrel aimed toward the floor as he eyed the other with suspicion. "What exactly do you hope to gain from this survival game?"

"I don't care who wins, just as long as it isn't Sixth or someone similar," her eyes narrowed. "If we're being given this opportunity to choose the next god, we have to use it wisely. I'd rather the world end than leave it in the hands of another Deus."

Zwingli let out a sardonic chuckle. As lawless as the other was, Ninth was hard to argue with - they were more similar than he'd anticipated. She had a point, all of her contracts had been terrible human beings, the banes of society. Though he disagreed with her execution, he recognized she had her morals. For one, she risked her life to evacuate the school and disarm the bomb, then she risked being detected during her reconnaissance to help him clear the room. As much as he hated to admit it, her skills out in the field also made her a very valuable partner. Weighing his options, he finally came to a conclusion. "I may have some use for you."

"So, you agree? We have a truce?"

Nodding, the detective kicked a nearby pistol toward her. "First, let's clear a path. We can discuss the details of our alliance later."

.oOo.

"You want me to join you?" Alfred's blue eyes widened incredulously.

Romulus nodded. "From what Deus said, I assume you're a very competent individual despite your appearance? After all, you did survive two dead ends, clearly there must be _something _special about you," As much as the teen wanted to argue that point, to say that he hadn't done a damn thing and wouldn't even be alive had Ivan not constantly saved him, it was for the best he didn't convince the dangerous crime lord he was worthless. That, and Romulus would undoubtedly ask questions that could put Ivan and Zwingli at risk. They were his only means of getting out of the manor alive, there was no way he'd rat them out. "Of course, with our alliance comes protection, more so than Fourth or Second could ever provide."

"I-" The American frowned, appalled by the offer. "_No _! You attacked my school. People are _dead _! How could I ever trust someone like you?"

"So you would put your trust into the monster that gunned my men down without mercy? You do know they're human, right? They have families mourning them," Romulus answered sternly. "The world isn't so black and white, Alfredo. Sometimes the end justifies the means."

"What justifies killing innocent people?"

"Everything is on the line when the fate of the world rests on our shoulders," amber eyes glanced back at the teen, observing his reaction. "Would you rather have a quick death or watch the world around you slowly tear everything you love apart?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You know Deus is dying, correct? That's why he must choose a successor," Sixth explained. Alfred blinked in surprise at the reveal, suddenly filled with mixed feelings. On one hand, he absolutely hated the god for forcing him into this predicament, for making him a cheap source of entertainment at the cost of his own life…on the other, the teen had so many fond memories of their time together. It was heartbreaking, his imaginary friend, the one he'd always gone to for comfort, had turned out to be nothing more than a sadistic deity. To learn that the other was dying? It felt like retribution for his betrayal, but the realization also pained him. "We have less than 97 days left until the game is concluded, do you know why that is?"

"Is that...is that when Deus is supposed to die?"

The crime lord gave him a nod, a pleased smile on his face. "Yes, exactly. But there's more to it than that. Surely you know what will happen then?" Slowly, Alfred shook his head. "Without a god to maintain order, the universe will collapse in on itself. Everything will be destroyed."

The teen's heart stopped. "Wait, seriously?"

"If you doubt me, you could always ask Deus yourself next time you get the chance." Averting his gaze, Alfred wasn't sure if it was wise to tell the other he was currently giving Deus the silent treatment. He didn't even want to look at him or Tony, he was too pissed off for everything he had to endure the past couple of weeks. Besides, Ivan already seemed to know _everything _, there was no reason to see the deity when the Russian answered all his questions concerning the game.

"It makes sense," Alfred agreed, staring at the bubbles in his glass as he processed this new information.

"So, don't you see? Everything that happens between now and then is all just a part of the game. Who knows how the world will decay? Will it be gradual as Deus gets progressively weaker or will it happen all at once when the timer reaches zero? It's the lack of concrete answers that makes it all the more daunting."

To be fair, the conversation alone was giving Alfred anxiety. It was like Deus had given them no choice but to fight to the death, otherwise everyone would die anyway. It was an ultimatum to encourage them to participate, as if the incentive of becoming god alone wasn't enough to make a person throw away all their morals. That meant that he and Ivan couldn't always be on the defensive. If they wanted the world to continue its existence, there could only be one surviving champion…

The stakes were just too high. Matthew, Kiku, the rest of his family and friends. They didn't deserve a grim fate, they were innocent, just like everybody else not involved in this stupid game. How could Deus be so cruel to punish those who've done nothing but simply exist?

"I can only hope it's the latter of the two," the crime lord continued. "I have no doubt that the panic will be more terrifying than what follows suit. If you thought my raid was reckless, I'd hate to see what the other diary owners will resort to when their desperation consumes them," Romulus sighed in resignation, his exhausted front almost sympathetic. "I simply want to end this game as soon as possible, anything to avoid getting others mixed in our mess."

It was hard to get a clear understanding of Sixth's motives. He displayed himself as very vulnerable person, someone who did the wrong things for the right reasons. Though Alfred still disagreed with his actions, he couldn't help but feel conflicted. With his sheltered and naive upbringing, he'd grown up with a very clear view of what was right and wrong, but after being sucked into this game and meeting Ivan, it was so easy for him to be filled with doubt. These days, it was just hard for him to understand _anything _anymore. Maybe he never had.

There was also the fact that Romulus was extremely charismatic, it was hard not to fall for his charm, though fortunately Alfred had some experience with acting under his belt. Pressing his lips together tightly, he wondered just how sincere Sixth was being, if he was being sincere at all. What exactly was his plan? Deciding he needed a little more help with the situation, the American took another few gulps of champagne.

"So, I'm supposed to believe you're the good guy?" Raising a brow, Alfred set his glass down.

"Of course not," Romulus smiled. "I know exactly what I am. But amongst all those terrible things, I'm also a father," his amber gaze gleamed triumphantly when he saw the other tense uncomfortably. "You know my boys, Alfredo. My Feli and Lovi. How do you think they'd behave in the face of an apocalypse? What parent would want their children to endure such a horrific thing?"

"You made your own son a hostage," Alfred accused, hoping that would be enough to finalize his perception of the other. Sixth was a bad man, end of discussion.

Romulus' lip curled into a frown. "I did not. My men took him away for his own safety. He was never in any real danger, not that he knew, of course. I like to keep my business and personal life separate when I can, at least for their sake."

"Don't you think they deserve to know?"

"We all have our secrets, First. I don't suppose you've told your family all about your involvement in this competition?"

"No…" Chewing on his bottom lip nervously, Alfred knew the other had seen through him perfectly. He was mentally defeated, left more confused than ever. There was no way he could be Romulus' enemy. Only bad people deserved to die, and that was in the most extreme cases. If this man was the father of Feliciano, who loved and spoke of him so fondly, could he really be evil?

"Well, there you have it."

The sound of scribbling against paper caught both their attention, Romulus pulled a small journal from his coat pocket and opened it, skimming through the more recent entries with an impassive expression. He had anticipated Fourth and Ninth killing each other, but the fact they were detected working together had escalated things. He needed to change course if he was to keep things under control.

Tucking his diary back into his pocket, he glanced at the other. "Clocks ticking, Alfredo. Have you made your decision yet?"

"Huh? You mean the alliance?" Sixth sent him a nod and smile, but Alfred could only reciprocate with wary eyes. "I still don't trust you."

"After I told you the truth? Even after I explained myself?" The crime lord seemed perplexed, as though Alfred should've forgiven him for everything he's done.

"Just because you think you're right doesn't mean you are," the teen scowled. "At the end of the day, you're just using people."

"As if you aren't using those two allies of yours for your own gain," Romulus huffed, gaze suddenly becoming intense. "Do you really believe you can get anywhere without wrapping someone around your finger?"

Alfred almost defended himself, saying that it wasn't like that at all...but was it really? Ivan freaked him out, but he always found himself going back to the other for protection. Was he really using him? All he wanted to do was live, becoming god meant nothing to him, and Ivan proved time and time again that he was his best chance for survival. Sixth was a person who used his persuasion skills as a weapon, could their situations really considered the same? It made him think about the other's true intentions. "Is that what you're you're doing to me? Trying to appeal to me just so you can stab me in the back?"

Brown eyes narrowed. "I can give you everything you want, Alfredo. By my side, you will be given the best luxuries a man can afford. You will live safely knowing that none of the other diary owners can even come close to you. Does that not sound ideal?"

"Yeah, but at what cost? Am I supposed to expect that in the end you'll let me go free? Are we gonna wait until one of us randomly drops dead and use that to determine who becomes god?" Alfred shook his head, eyes squinting in suspicion. "What if you're trying to keep me trapped here like cattle? That you just want to use me like you use everybody else?"

Romulus stared at him long and hard, expression unwavering until he finally let out a dark chuckle, a sly grin on his face. "It takes one to know one, I suppose…"

Alfred fumed. "I'm nothing like you!"

"No, perhaps not exactly. Not _yet _," Romulus took a sip of his champagne, the amusement in his eyes never faltering. "You haven't gotten to that point, have you? But you _will _." Setting the glass down, he smirked knowingly. "Once upon a time, I was very much like you. Innocent, very optimistic. I had big dreams for the future. That was before my father's rival decided that kidnapping his bastard son and slaughtering his own mother in front of him would give him leverage over the other," Sixth shrugged carelessly, as though the sudden disclosure of information hadn't shocked the teen into silence. "At the time, I hadn't even known about him. My mother and I were just living in the slums of Rome, panhandling tourists to make a living. Then before I knew it, I was a hostage in my captor's home. On good days, I was treated like royalty. On bad days, I was beaten to send a message. It wasn't until I realized that if I became what others wanted, I could get them to do things for me. As I won over their favor, I could ask for more and more things. Eventually, I was able to prove to my host family I was a worthy heir, that I was much more competent than their weak-minded son. I assassinated my actual father for their trust, married their daughter and staged a coup as I conquered the remains of both empires. It was the greatest heist of the century, I'm quite proud I was able to do it all alone. All it took were some sweet words and complementary action," Romulus paused thoughtfully. "How interesting, I've never even told my sons that. Perhaps history is repeating itself?"

Alfred's stomach churned uncomfortably, his mouth dropped in horror. He hadn't expected the tragic backstory to come up, nor the implications of his own fate. The thought alone scared the teen, he had to get out of there _now _. "I've been here long enough," he stood up. "I have to finish helping Michelle. After all, what are you paying me for, am I right?" he let out a nervous giggle.

Romulus laughed. "Are you stupid? After everything I've just shared with you, you honestly don't think I'll be letting you go, do you?" he smiled kindly, as if that were something Alfred should be enthusiastic about.

The teen furrowed his brows. "I never agreed to an alliance."

"That was for _formality _, it's not like you ever really had a choice."

"What?" Paling, Alfred shook his head. "No! That's not how that works!"

"Child, do you honestly believe you can win in life by playing fair?" The crime lord shook his head fondly. "You're adorable, I can see why my son is so taken with you."

"Don't belittle me! I am not your captive!" Alfred huffed. He spun on his heel and made his way toward the doorway, only to have two men in suits suddenly block his exit. "_ Shit _."

Romulus leaned back in his chair. "I'm a generous man, Alfredo. I can make this a very pleasant stay for you or I can make it so each day you wished you were dead. The choice is yours."

Fingers quivering, the teen tried to maintain a strong facade. There was no way he could show weakness in front of the other, he just couldn't accept whatever Sixth had in store for him. "I'm not helping you. My allies will come through for me, you'll see," he promised, brows narrowing defiantly. He hoped he appeared more brave than he felt.

"Such sweet faith you have in them, it's almost like you don't realize they're using you themselves," Sixth noted mockingly. "Is that your final answer?"

Instantly his mind went to Ivan, who despite everything, had never let him down yet. He hated putting his faith in the other, especially after knowing his psychotic, dirty secret, but right now he was running out of options. With a single nod, Alfred gave his response.

"Very well," with a snap of the crime lord's fingers, the teen suddenly felt two pairs of hands restraining him, their hold on his arms keeping him firmly in place, even as he struggled. "Search him."

A third man entered the scene, standing before Alfred with a vile smirk that made him sneer in disgust. The teen squirmed as strange hands reached out and trailed down his body, patting him down, occasionally lingering on a spot for a moment too long. Staring at the other warningly, it wasn't until they met each other's gaze that the man decided to be cocky and reach under his skirt, groping his ass.

Instinctively, he kicked the other hard, right in his abdomen. Alfred's face was red as he attempted to thrash in his captor's arms, only to be outmatched in terms of strength. He was absolutely furious for being assaulted like that, he'd do more than just kick the other if he could.

"Puttana del cazzo!" The man who touched him cursed, a wild gleam in his eyes as he staggered in an attempt to get back up, completely prepared to attack as though this weren't his fault to begin with.

Fortunately Romulus decided to intervene, standing up and approaching the rest of them with a hand raised for the other to stand down. His expression was completely apathetic, instead he seemed annoyed. "Nothing?"

"Nothing, sir. I could do a cavity search if you want."

Alfred went white, turning to Sixth helplessly. The teen almost let out a sigh of relief when the other shook his head. "No need, the bambino is clearly inexperienced. Perhaps there's still a chance we can get through to him without violence? I did promise my boy a reward, after all. I wouldn't want to spoil it."

"Of course, mi rex."

Romulus took a few steps forward, standing close enough to Alfred so the teen felt uncomfortable with the lack of personal space. "Where's your diary?" he demanded.

Biting his bottom lip, Alfred averted his gaze and shook his head. "I don't know."

Eye twitching, Romulus' expression contorted into something downright terrifying, the glare in his irises almost enough to strike the teen dead. "I've been patient. I've tried to be understanding. I could've kept you safe until the end, I could've made it so you had a painless death in your sleep," he spat. "If you want to be a difficult brat, then so be it. You'll learn your place eventually once you settle into your role, if not as my guest, then as my _prisoner _," he took a moment to regain his composure, smiling tightly as though he hadn't just done a 180. "Now, I'm going to ask you one more time. Where. Is. It?"

"I don't have it!" He hated how frightened he sounded, like a child in trouble. "I swear!"

A sudden impact on his cheek startled him, the force of it knocking him off his feet - the hold on him had been the only thing that kept him from falling over. The sting from being backhanded was agonizing, especially since the crime lord was wearing rings. No one had ever hit him like that in his life, it was hard for him not to break down and cry. Throat dry, eyes red as he struggled to keep the tears at bay, Alfred somehow managed to remain defiant as he glared at the other.

.oOo.

The sub-machine gun was running low on ammunition, Ivan noted with a scowl as he checked his pockets for extra cartridges. _Blyad, _they were all exhausted having used the last one on those men blocking the back corridor_. _There was still the pistol he received earlier, having been able to scavenge some ammo from some of the men he killed as he fought his way to the upper floor, but he was hoping he could save that for later. No matter, he'd either find some hidden arms or loot them from corpses.

Letting out a dreamy sigh, he couldn't wait to see the look on his beloved's face when he came to his rescue! Alfred would swoon when he saw his knight in shining armor arrive, and Ivan would then slay Sixth and whisk his prince into his arms - a happily ever after. It made him giddy just thinking about it!

Hearing footsteps, the smile on his face was instantly wiped as his gaze sharpened with alertness, ducking behind a wardrobe. It was just a young lady humming to herself as she left the laundry room at the end of the corridor. Unsuspecting, clearly the average civilian, he merely waited until she walked passed him before taking long strides toward the door. Quietly opening it, he slipped inside just as he heard the girl scream - most likely encountering one of his more recent victims.

It was loud in the laundry room, the machines clunked and rattled as they did their cycles. Pulling out his phone, he re-read the entry. Leftmost washer. Glancing at the appliance, he saw that the timer had about two minutes before it began. Pressing the 'cancel' button, he opened the door and reached his hand inside, making a confused face when he pulled out a wad of cotton.

An amused giggle escaped him. Alfred was as precious as he was creative! Still, it was very impressive fast-thinking on his part. If Sixth got his hands on Alfred's diary, it would've been much more difficult to save him. Not impossible, Ivan would never let it get to that extent, but this just stacked all the cards in their favor.

Unbundling the lump and discarding the socks onto the floor, he finally made it to the ziplock bag holding the phone. Taking it out and unlocking it since he knew Alfred's passcode by heart, he checked to see his most recent entries.

They were mainly about Alfred's surroundings, the only consistency was that it was in his perspective. Though sporadic in nature, some of the entries were extremely descriptive and constant - he was immediately able to tell which room he was in, how many men were there, and what Sixth was doing. No wonder it was so powerful.

In regards to Alfred's condition, he had to check his own diary for that. Sixth had hurt him and that alone was enough justification for him to slaughter them all. Narrowing his eyes, he headed toward the door, eager to get to his sunflower's side before he suffered any more.

**_Shhhhhhhbt-_**

**_-Shhhhhhhbt-_**

Both his and Alfred's diary changed. That meant Sixth's had as well and said diary owner was now reacting to the changes made. They would be relocating soon, a mocking grin stretched across Ivan's lips as he analyzed the text. How _predictable _, and coincidentally it worked in his favor. Tucking away both phones into his pocket while picking up his pace, he knew there was no time to waste.

.oOo.

Forced to follow Sixth into the billiards room, Alfred's breath hitched when he noticed the room was now filled with more men. How had he not heard them enter? Did they not make a sound? If he thought he was way over his head before, now he was completely surrounded. The teen was downright petrified.

The sound of a pen scratching on paper jolted him out of his panic. Again Romulus retrieved his journal, skimming through its pages only for his eyes to widen at what he saw. The text had rewritten itself into a phrase he had yet to see.

**[DEAD END]**

_What? _The crime boss flipped back a few pages, noticing the number of entries had diminished since the last time he saw them, his eyes on the mansion rapidly decreasing. But _how _? There was no way Second could have the upper-hand, he'd have to be familiar with the various secret passages, which was _impossible _. No one outside his most trusted circle had access to them.

_"You two," _he said in Latin, nodding toward the men closest to the door. _"Find Second and tell us anything you can. The rest of us will be heading toward the safe room," _he turned to another as they left the room. _"Where is Lovino?" _

Though Alfred couldn't understand a word Mr. Vargas said, he froze at the mention of his ex-friend. Was he here too?

_"Sebastian is already on it," _the other responded.

_"Good," _Sixth gestured toward the fireplace. _"Let's move out." _

Alfred blinked cautiously when another henchman approached him with handcuffs, his blue eyes wincing as his arms were forced behind his back just before the new restraints clicked in place. A man dug a blindfold out of his pocket while Romulus and some guards approached the fireplace, it was no doubt some secret passageway. That would explain why they didn't want him to see anything. Feeling the cloth wrapped around his eyes, he trembled as he felt something metallic press into his spine. "Come along now, bambino," a hand on his shoulder steered him forward, but it was rough and impatient. Alfred could only wonder what had Sixth so tense all of a sudden.

Was it because of Ivan? Was Romulus _afraid _of him? One part of him wanted to revel in the satisfaction of Sixth getting payback, yet he was also extremely worried. Caught in the mafia's clutches, he couldn't see any plausible way of getting out of this mess. Even if the Russian wanted to come save him, how could he single-handedly get through all of Sixth's men? There was no way around it, Alfred was royally _screwed _.

After a while of walking, perhaps ten minutes with the majority of time spent descending stairs, the blindfold was finally removed from him, as was the stranger's hand. Surprised, he slowly took in his surroundings. Where was he? In an underground cantina? It greatly resembled Mr. Vargas' restaurant, with its brick walls and dark wood floors. There was a large, antique wooden bar with a granite countertop and brown leather barstools beneath dim, yellow-lit, vintage lamps. Rows of alcohol were displayed on various racks on the far wall and a large TV hung in the center. Turning away, Alfred was met with a large seating area filled with various more men sitting down with their weapons resting on tables not too far away. All it took was one wrong move and he'd be gunned down, there was no escaping this.

Romulus glanced over to him and smirked upon seeing his alarmed expression. "Is the scared little rabbit afraid of the big bad wolf?" he cooed, gently resting a hand beneath the teen's chin and tilting it up. "It's alright, there's no safer place than right here...though I suppose that means nothing to you. Fortunately, there's still time to beg for forgiveness. I can make things very comfortable for you if you just tell me where you hid your diary," he smiled gently.

"I didn't bring it," Alfred lied. "I was told not too."

"You would tell me that when your diary is the one thing keeping you alive?" Sixth pulled a revolver out of his pocket and aimed it between the teen's eyes. As he clicked the safety off, Alfred suddenly found it hard to breath.

_"Sir, you should see this…" _One of the men approached his boss, holding a tablet up for the other to see the footage on the screen.

Sixth glared at the man with a serious expression. _"Is this...where I think this is?" _

_"Yes," _the man nodded. _"He's making his way toward us as we speak." _

"I suppose you make good bait," Romulus mused, turning back to the teenager. "We will lure your precious ally here and kill him," his fingers brushed through golden-blond hair, a smirk on his face. "You know, your friend took a detour to the laundry room. Is it a coincidence that was the room I retrieved you from? Or perhaps something more…"

_'Fuck!' _Alfred wanted to scream.

"It seems I win in the end. After all, I _always _get what I want," he paused for a moment, rubbing his chin. "Though that does not change the fact you lied to me. You're quite good, you'd be dangerous if there was actually a brain in that pretty little head of yours."

Swallowing the lump in his throat, frustrated tears rolled down Alfred's cheeks despite his endeavor to hold them back. He hated how close he was to the other, he just wanted to look away and temporarily forget he was here. He wanted to _disappear _.

"Ohhh, povero piccolo," Romulus came even closer, caressing the wound on the teen's cheek with a proud grin on his face as the other trembled harder. "Just answer a few questions for me and I won't hurt you anymore," he watched the younger give him a hesitant nod. "Splendido. Now, tell me what your diary tells you."

"I-It tells me what I'm going to observe," Alfred relented, glancing away shamefully.

"I see. And Second's?"

"It's not a threat to you at all, it just tells him about me."

"Ah, so that's why Deus said it wasn't impressive," he beamed confidently. "This is perfect, I can work with this."

"Papa?" Alfred's eyes widened when he recognized a new voice, paling when they rested on a certain individual. "_ A-Alfredo _?"

Feeling First tense, it proved to be very difficult for the crime lord to conceal a triumphant grin. "My son, I'm glad to see you are safe!"

"Wh-what, I d-don't-" Lovino struggled to speak, overwhelmed by the sight of his father touching his crush's face affectionately.

"Do you like what I've caught? Such a handsome little thing…" Alfred cringed as Sixth held his chin and forced him to turn his head toward the other.

"What...What is he doing here?" Lovino finally managed to say, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Trying to kill me, no doubt. Your little sweetheart isn't as innocent as he seems, I'm afraid," Romulus replied nonchalantly, watching the visibly distressed teen.

"N-No, he would never…"

"Oh, really? That's interesting you would say that considering he's the one who killed your friend Antonio."

Both Alfred and Lovino stilled at this, the former could only gawk as realization dawned on him, everything suddenly clicking into place, as Lovino shook his head. "There's no way- _No _."

"But it's true, and I have you to thank for helping me put together the pieces," Alfred turned to Sixth, his heart palpitating. How would Lovino even have known? He shot his old friend a glance, only to see that the other was taken aback by that statement. "I think it's fitting you get your reward now."

Alfred was startled when he felt Romulus' hand clasp around the back of his neck, guiding him forward so he was face-to-face with the guy who claimed to hate him only a few months ago. Cheeks red, he was absolutely humiliated.

_"What?" _Lovino squeaked, face going white. Suddenly the teen was pushed into the young adult, only to be caught by the Italian's hands on his forearms which steadied him. Fuck, these handcuffs were a _bitch _, he absolutely hated being manhandled. "Papa, I don't understand-"

"I thought you liked him? The only reason I haven't killed him yet is because of you."

"K-killed him?"

Romulus raised a brow. "Have you changed your mind?"

On the verge of panic, feeling shameful that someone he once regarded as a friend saw him in such an embarrassing and vulnerable state, he lost his composure. "Lovi, _please _, I know you hate me, but _please _don't let him kill me." Seeing hazel eyes widen, he choked on a sob, shaking his head desperately. " _Please _! I don't wanna die!"

Alfred let out a yelp as a rough hand yanked his golden-blond hair back painfully. Lovino was startled by the action, taking a step forward in an attempt to help the other, but he was surprised to find himself held back by his father's men. "W-what are you doing? Let him go!"

"That's fine," Sixth said callously, clearly ignoring his son. "I'm sure I can find plenty of other uses for him."

.oOo.

_No, no, no. _The Russian cursed under his breath, he needed to conserve the ammo in his pistol as the amount he currently had wouldn't be enough to take down a room full of Sixth's men. Glancing around the living room, he quickly brushed his hands beneath a few pieces of furniture for any weapons. Finding a magnum hidden within the couch, he growled and tossed it after discovering it was empty. Alfred _needed_ him, he had to hurry.

Mounting over the fireplace was a replica of a spatha. Ivan let out a heavy sigh - it wasn't a gun, but it was _something _. Taking the sword off the display rack and unsheathing it, he was surprised to find it was genuine. He had assumed it would be decorative, but the steel used was high carbon, well-preserved, and extremely sharp. Giving a few test swings, he found that it was durable, suddenly realizing this may have been created as a backup for a scenario where guns were rendered useless. How ironic that it would wind up in enemy hands, Ivan smirked as he slipped the sheath back on and wrapped the leather belt around his waist.

Making his way down the hall, he found himself in the kitchen. Large and beautifully ornate, he ignored that in favor of the butler's pantry, where the back of his knuckles rapped along the wall. Somewhere around here had to be where the dumbwaiter used to be.

Knocking on hollow wood, his violet eyes brightened. Looking around, he found a butcher's knife and hacked it into the thin panel, eventually making a large enough hole for his fingers to fit through, in which he pulled the wood back and tore it out to reveal a long, vertical shaft. It would definitely be a tight squeeze, but not unlike anything he's ever done before. Steadying his feet on the old brick and balancing himself so he didn't slip, he began inching himself down into the deep dark abyss.

Hearing the two phones in his possession make a distorted sound, he waited until his feet found a concrete ledge that could support his weight before checking his diary for his beloved's status.

What he read next made his blood boil. All he saw was red.

.oOo.

Throwing Alfred to the ground, the teen let out a pained groan as he rolled onto his side while the sixth diary user pulled out his journal. _"I want men guarding all entrances, outside as well as in." _Pointing and directing men toward specific locations, Romulus made sure to send a few of the more heinous ones to surround the teen and block his line of sight.

_"Sebastian, what's the meaning of this? What's going on?" _Lovino hissed to cousin, who sent him a shaky smile

_"It's all just part of the game." _

Romulus turned to the men encircling Alfred._ "If we want to attract Second, we're going to have to hit him where it hurts. Do as you wish to the boy, I don't care. Just keep him distracted." _

Feeling something hard strike his abdomen, Alfred coughed as he doubled over, tearing up in agony. Oh god, they were going to kill him. He was actually going to be beaten until they killed him. _Holy shit. _Sobbing, he wished he wasn't restrained so he could at least have the chance to fight back.

Suddenly he felt a hand roughly trail down his leg. Instinctively, he kicked back with more power than he thought he had, though he was only able to enjoy his victory for a short while before he felt the strange men restrict both his legs and pull them apart. Struggling to close them, he furiously blushed as he was very aware he was exposed.

"F-fuck, let go! Let go!" His cries went unheard. No matter how much he tried to pull his legs back, they were fixed into place. Never in his life had he felt so powerless as he did in this moment. "_ Please _! L-Let me go!" Begging for mercy was his only option, the fact that he sucked up his pride meant he was desperate. Feeling hands grab his uniform and tear the fabric, he began hyperventilating. _No, no, no! _Squirming with new found vigor, his tears fell harder as he finally realized that he was truly helpless in this scenario. These men weren't honorable, they were used to killing on a daily basis. They've probably done worse than beat up a teenager.

Alfred let out a surprised cry when he felt someone yank down his underwear. No...they weren't planning on beating him up, the teen paled as he heard zippers become undone, hands roaming around his body in a way he didn't like at all, lifting his lower half. No matter how hard he fought to get out of their grip, he was unable to clench his legs together so he wouldn't be flashing these disgusting, lewd men who ogled him with their lascivious grins.

This was much worse. More so than he ever imagined.

"No! No please, Sixth, I beg of you, please! I-I'm sorry, I'll do anything! _Please _!" Alfred closed his watery eyes tightly, not wanting to see anymore than he already had.

"I would calm down, First," Romulus advised without an ounce of sympathy. "I heard it hurts worse for men, especially since they're not even preparing you properly."

"P-Papa!" Lovino tried to break free from the men holding him back, but failed. "Stop! What are you doing? Let him go!"

"It's a kill or be killed world out there, Lovino. One day you'll understand."

"He's innoce-"

Alfred yelped, the sound of father and son arguing drowned out as he felt something prod his ass. "S-Stop!" He hiccuped, despite knowing there was no point, his cries were falling on deaf ears. These men didn't care what they were doing, they just wanted a quick fuck to satisfy their desires, their need for dominance. The teen just had the unfortunate luck of being both defenseless and easy on the eyes.

Romulus stared at the pages of his diary, gun armed in his free hand. Where was Second? His dead end hadn't disappeared, but there was no mention of him anywhere. _How _? How was this _kid _able to evade all his men?

THUMP.

A loud kick broke through a hollow wall and through it came none other than Ivan, black suit covered in dust and debris. Immediately he sprinted toward the men surrounding his beloved, his face contorted into a feral rage as he raised his pistol and fired multiple quick shots, each planting themselves into the nearby perpetrators necks and skulls. _Click, click, click- _realizing he'd run out of bullets, he tossed the empty weapon before unsheathing his spatha and driving the sharp blade through flesh and bone, ripping limbs off as they got in between him and Alfred. With one final thrust, he dove the spear into two goonies that were perfectly aligned, piercing their abdomens as they spluttered with blood before pressing his foot against their chest with a profound kick, sliding them off his weapon.

Finally he saw Alfred, splattered with blood and trembling with streaks of tears running down his cheeks, disheveled as he hugged himself tightly. Kneeling beside the other, Ivan gently caressed Alfred's cheek with his free hand, waking him from his stupor.

"I-Ivan?" Blue eyes widened with disbelief and Ivan's resolve became even more solid. He would make everyone in that room _pay _for what they've done. No one laid a hand on his sunflower and got away with it.

A slow clap caught his attention, Ivan's violet eyes narrowed as they fixed themselves on Sixth. "Very well done," Romulus grinned, impressed. "Where did you even come from? Here I thought I knew everything this place had to offer!"

Staring at the man with icy, hateful eyes, Ivan straightened out and moved so he was between the men and Alfred. "I do not care for talk. Make your next move already," he spat.

Smirking with confidence, Sixth shook his head. "Don't you know it's unwise to bring a sword to a gunfight? Though I commend your choice, you're completely outmatched."

Analyzing the group of soldiers aiming their weapons at him, he was relatively unfazed. "I thought you were one who wanted to kill us," Ivan goaded snidely, though there was a strange glint in his eyes. "Yet you are having your men do your work for you? How pathetic."

Sixth's grinned arrogantly as he raised his revolver, seeing no possible way the other could turn the tides of this encounter. "Very well, if that is your final request, I have no qualms regarding it."

Watching Sixth fire a shot toward Ivan's chest, blue eyes turned to the other anxiously. _No, no, no. _Ivan couldn't die here. Alfred would never forgive himself if the other died trying to protect him, not after everything they've been through.

With what could only be superhuman reflexes, the other teen elegantly twirled the sword in his hand. _Cling _. Alfred could only blink in surprise as he stared at the Russian protecting him. _What? _Did Ivan just deflect a bullet with a _sword _? Like _Deadpool _?

No...that wasn't _possible _. It defied physics and _no one _could have a reaction time that fast.

Surprised, amber eyes widened with shock. Gritting his teeth and furrowing his brows, Romulus rapidly pulled the trigger until its magazine was exhausted.

Again, Ivan one-handedly spun the spatha with quick expertise, slicing the air with intense violet eyes never leaving the other diary user. _Cling, cling, cling, cling. _

"I-Ivan...you're amazing…" Alfred gasped. The other was completely cinematic, as though he were portraying one of the fictional heroes the American idolized.

"What?" Romulus in turn was horrified, eyes widening with genuine fear. "Just _what _the hell are you?"

"I am pissed," Ivan growled, glancing at all the men that now raised their weapons and covered their leader. "And now you are all _dead _."

Numerous gunshots were heard, and Ivan charged toward them, continuously deflecting the bullets like some fucking _beast _. Sparks were flying, men who were suddenly hit by the ricocheting projectiles collapsed, absolutely nothing went past Second who now entered close quarters combat, slashing his sword and dodging attacks gracefully despite the bloodshed. Heads were sliced off, a man's torso was cut in half, it took a lot for Alfred to keep the bile down his throat, yet he was too mesmerized to turn away. Honestly, he was _so _fortunate Ivan was on his side. There was no way he could ever compete with that, just what the hell was Deus thinking putting _him _in a game like this? The teen was completely outmatched.

Someone pulled roughly on Lovino's arm. "We need to go. _Now _," Sebastian hissed with urgency.

The Italian's gaze flickered to the dazed American and to his father, who was promptly being backed into a corner. "But Alfred...Papa…"

Sebastian glared at Ivan, who was smiling widely as he dove his sword into someone's skull. "You think that man won't rest until every one of us is dead?" Shaking his head, he noticed Lovino pale. "This is our only chance to escape!"

Nodding with reluctance, Lovino let his cousin lead him away, but not without sending Alfred one last pained look.

Romulus found himself seated in a chair, eyes downcast as he watched his army fall, bleeding and dying, begging for mercy as the Russian furiously tore into them. The diary in his hands kept rewriting itself, the amount of entries descending as his spectators were brutally slaughtered. Second was the perfect soldier, something _inhuman _. He hadn't anticipated this in the slightest, how could he have? There was clearly more to this game than what met the eye.

It didn't take a genius to know he'd lost.

The last of Sixth's men defeated, Ivan pulled his sword out of a soldier's neck and glowered at the crime boss before stalking toward him. A sad smile graced his lips as amber eyes rested on the blade dripping crimson, a promise of his fate. Unlike First, it seemed he was incapable of rewriting what was set in stone. His time had come and it would be futile to resist it.

Such a shame he wouldn't be able to see what else the duo was capable of.

"May I ask why you are so against me?" Romulus asked, looking Ivan in the eyes. "As far as I know, I've done nothing to you, I never met you before today. Why go through all this effort just to kill me?" Of all people, he expected Ninth to be the one to go after him. He was genuinely surprised, yet impressed.

Eye twitching, a venomous grin grew on Ivan's face as he pointed the sword right below Sixth's sternum. "You took..._ everything _from me," he growled, irises constricted like a madman's.

Gaze flickering to Alfred, Romulus let out a bitter chuckle. "I see..." A sardonic grin marred his face. "Do you honestly believe you have a chance? He's clearly terrified of you, you'll never be anything more than a monster to him." Hand clenching around the hilt of his sword with fury, Ivan thrusted the the blade into the other, pinning his body to the leather armchair. Letting out a pained gasp before coughing up blood, Sixth's grin never faltered. "I'll see you in hell..."

Coldly watching the other struggle to breathe, Ivan waited until the other's movements stilled. Unlocking Alfred's phone, he read the current entry in his diary.

**January 24 5:12 [Sixth's Safe Room]**

**Ivan impales Sixth to a chair and he dies. **

A bubbling, incredulous laugh escaped him. "Fedya, I did it! I killed him! I did it! He won't hurt you anymore!" He turned to Alfred, only to freeze when he saw the other staring at Romulus' corpse, lively blue eyes now despondent. "Fedya?" Ivan instantly rushed to his beloved, hands on both sides of his face, forcing their eyes to meet. "Sunflower, please-"

Alfred lost it, whimpering as tears poured from his eyes. "Iv-Ivan…" his voice cracked as he began dry heaving. "I-I thought they were gonna...they were gonna…"

"Nyet, I would never let that happen," Ivan swore, backing away as he pulled a paperclip out of his pocket and shaped it before inserting it into the handcuff's lock. Hearing a satisfying click as the restraints fell off, he turned back to the American, purple eyes darkening as he took in the cut on the American's face. "I would kill anyone for your sake."

Shaking his head, Alfred fell forward into Ivan's arms, wrapping his own around the other, fingers gripping the back of Ivan's suit tightly as he pressed his face into his chest, just needing something to hold onto. This game...this game was going to break him.

He was alive, and still a virgin - thank God. No, thank _Ivan _. Somehow the guy holding him protectively, gently rubbing circles into his back, had single-handedly annihilated an entire room filled with mobsters just to save him. As creepy and scary the other was, what with the corpses in his basement, Alfred _needed _him if he wanted to last in this game. There was no way he could make it through on his own. As much as he hated to admit it, Ivan was his hero.

All he knew was that he _never _wanted to feel that powerless ever again.

.oOo.

Zwingli watched as Ivan lifted Alfred into the backseat of the interceptor. Quiet and unresponsive, the younger teen was avoiding eye contact with everyone, completely lost in his own thoughts. The detective felt sympathetic toward the kid, he definitely looked like he had a hard time. Though he knew there was a chance of them being discovered, he hadn't anticipated it being through an innocent third-party who just so happened to be Sixth's son. It seemed his diary had a vital limitation, he'd have to analyze its capabilities more in his free time.

With a reassuring smile sent to Alfred as he caressed his hair, Ivan shut the car door and moved around the vehicle to get to his side. Zwingli took this opportunity to push off the hood and block the other's path. "We need to talk."

"Oh?" Ivan smirked, amused. "About what?"

"Your affiliations with Sixth. After all, _you're _the one who left the files on my desk. How did you know his identity? How did you know about this place?" A mere eighteen year old solved what he and his team of highly trained professionals could not. Not only that, but he single-handedly destroyed an entire criminal empire...there was no way this kid was who he claimed to be.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Ivan answered politely.

"Cut the crap, I know you're not letting us in on everything. What else are you hiding?"

"We all have our little secrets, like how I know for a fact you did not secure us exit on your own," Ivan countered, grin stretching when he saw Zwingli's eyes widen.

Disgruntled, the officer narrowed his eyes. "Get in the damn car, Braginsky."

Meanwhile, Elisabeth wandered the halls of the mansion, surveying the trail of corpses left behind. She was shocked, to say the least. Security systems had been bypassed, passageways she had yet to explore had been used...this was crazy. All of it had been done without her data, but she was the only one except for Romulus and his men to have access to that knowledge. It had taken her so long to accumulate everything, so how was Second able to exploit everything within a single day?

The dumbwaiter in the kitchen was the biggest surprise. Those old blueprints had been nearly impossible to recover, there was no way Second could have known about the shaft. Not unless he somehow stole her files...but again, that was _impossible _. She was unsure if she should be terrified of the other or downright impressed. Regardless, she couldn't help but stare at everything in defeat.

Was this really it? All that time she invested in avenging her father...Was it really all over? Sixth was dead, she should be relieved, but instead she felt robbed. That had been _her _kill, she had worked so hard for this moment only for it to be taken away.

There was something about Second that deserved being looked into. She needed to keep a close eye on him before any other surprises threw the game into chaos.

* * *

_A/N: Wow, such an anti-climatic final boss...lol, jk. Romulus is actually very easy for reasons. you all should understand everything by the end, assuming I execute this properly._

_So yeah, Romulus is a manipulative prick. His 'love' for his sons is actually anything but, it's just twisted and unhealthy. As a narcissist, he really only cared for and spoiled his kids because they were an extension of himself. He had no qualms manipulating and using them for his own gain. Feliciano has just always been happily oblivious to his father's true nature and therefore has seen the best of him, but Lovino always lived much more aware. Everyone is a pawn to him, just some pieces are more favorable than others._

_Also, Ivan always seems to know more than he's letting on. What kind of secrets is he hiding? Too fucking many, that's what. Ah, the things you do for love. Listen, if a multi-million dollar film can go against realism, then my supernatural, free-of-charge fanfic can do it too. That's my two-cents._


	10. The Seeds of Corruption

_A/N: So like, remember that song Alfred found on the mp3 player back in Chapter 4? My mom literally randomly sent it to me as I was writing this and I just thought that was funny. I mean, it's a very common song, but now I'm 100% assured that Alfred dismissing it is a true possibility. I'll bring it up again when it's relevant._

_And a certain someone finally makes an appearance!_

_Also, um, this was actually one very long filler chapter btw. Over 40 pages because a lot has to happen to fill the time gap, so I split it in half so I wouldn't overwhelm myself. I'll be publishing the second half later in the week or next and hope this is enough to excuse my absence, school and this virus have been stressing me out so much that I've been playing Animal Crossing religiously lol._

* * *

**Chapter 10: The Seeds of Corruption**

**"Interesting. You usually don't take this form unless it is required, Dantalion,"** Deus regarded the other in his cathedral, his resonant voice startling the demon under his servitude as he appeared.

The aging man dressed in a torn Russian military uniform turned to him, pale and ghastly like a ghost. Annoyed, a tight smile crossed his worn features. "I can only be an alien for so long. You know how I am, Deus."

**"This would be of no importance if the forms had no effect on your personality and whims. Should I be concerned?" **

Eye twitching slightly, the facade was wiped from the ancient entity's face. "Wary and paranoid as ever. What makes you assume I'm plotting against you?"

The god's glassy orbs bore hard into the other.** "As you are currently, you've always held a close association with Second. That, along with how recent events have veered from the predicted path, makes me wonder if it truly is a matter of cause and effect," **Deus paused in contemplation, eyes squinting with suspicion. **"Or perhaps it is something more..."**

"Your forthcoming death must have you deluded," the demon answered haughtily with an arrogant grin, though the strange glint in his eyes was noted by the observant god. "I have not left the Cathedral since the game commenced, as was the agreement, and you know I am bound to none other than my master. There is no way I could have intervened with how events unfolded."

**"So you say, but I know you wouldn't have donned the cold and ruthless guise of General Winter if there wasn't something going on behind the scenes."**

"You would prefer I were Tony, despite having already placed your bet on First? The game would be very boring if we both rooted for the same champion. Or perhaps you'd prefer I were one of those annoying mochi?" Dantalian scoffed. "And yet you have the gall to accuse me of favoritism."

Deus hummed, unperturbed in the slightest. **"It is apparent that you've been in this form for quite some time, it isn't unreasonable for me to have my suspicions. But it is of no matter, I have implemented some precautions in the case of any more surprises, so by all means, continue with this entertainment. I've never anticipated an outcome this much before, I'm excited to see what the future brings. "**

The demon's lips quirked into a wry smirk. _"So am I."_

.oOo.

It wasn't the first time Alfred opened his eyes to a star-covered ceiling with little recollection of the night before, though unfortunately a part of him was certain it wouldn't be the last. Hero was nestled between his legs over the blankets, hugging up all his warmth as he normally did, but it'd been a while since he heard light snores in his ear. Tilting his head, he saw none other than Ivan Braginsky sleeping on his side beside him, an arm draped over the American's waist holding him close.

Oh, _right_.

Sitting up quickly and burying his head in his hands, memories of his confrontation with Sixth hit him harder than a pickup truck. He'd throw up had he not already back at the precinct the night before, the abrupt twist of anxiety in his stomach was just too much to bear.

Had he really almost been... _gang-raped_? Had Ivan really mutilated and killed an entire criminal organization just to protect him?

Turning to the Russian, he noticed Ivan blinking his violet eyes slowly as he awoke, a gentle smile on his face when their gazes met. "Good morning, dear."

The younger of the two pursed his lips, fingers finding themselves anxiously brushing through cat fur as he thought of a way to approach the subject that had been bugging him for some time now, even more so since the previous night. Upon Ivan's concerned reaction in the corner of his eye, Alfred let out a deep breath. "Can we talk?"

It was Ivan's turn to sit up, his violet irises searching Alfred's face. "Of course, my love. What troubles you?" A pale hand was placed over one of his own, ceasing his petting and interlacing their fingers.

Blue eyes flickered to the other before back to Hero, who seemed annoyed that his hand was no longer brushing him. "Why didn't you tell me about your powers?"

Ivan stared at him confused, raising a brow. "My...powers?"

Nodding, Alfred finally fixed his gaze on Ivan. "Yeah. That's what they are, right?"

"I do not have any powers," Ivan insisted, appearing perplexed by the idea.

Alfred's lips curled down with doubt, but he should've expected this. Most supers denied who they were to friends and family, usually for their own protection. "What you did the other day, _nobody_ can do that. That's not _normal_. Your reflexes were on par with Spider-Man's, and if I've learned one this past month, it's that anything is possible. You were amazing, back at the school and then yesterday...dude, I'm still having trouble believing you're real."

The Russian blushed at the flattery, but was visibly uncomfortable. "Well, when in danger, adrenaline takes over, yes?"

"You mean like the whole, 'panicked mother lifts car off child' sort of thing?" Alfred rolled his eyes, unconvinced. "No way, you literally deflected bullets from semi-auto rifles with only a sword and came out unscathed. That's _not_ adrenaline, that's a mutation or something."

Ivan paused, taken aback, before smiling fondly. "Nothing ever escapes you, does it?"

Alfred shook his head. "So, what is it? Does it have to do with your secret past in Russia?"

Violet eyes stared at him long and hard, for what almost felt like an eternity, before a half-hearted grin broke on his face. "You got me," Ivan said sweetly, but the lack of emotion went unnoticed by the other.

"Oh my god, seriously?" Alfred covered his nose and mouth with his hands, attempting to hold back from fanboying. He couldn't believe this was actually happening. Lowering them slowly, he continued on. "So, like, do you have any other abilities?"

Seeing a spark reignited in blue irises made Ivan's heart flutter, his cheeks reddening further with the realization that this had been because of _him_. Alfred had always been the one who saw him differently from everybody else, the only one who ever believed in him... "I would not say they are powers. I just have more experience and it shows."

"So…you're more like Hit-Girl and Black Widow? Punisher?" Alfred suggested.

"I suppose...But," Ivan lowered his tone, his expression serious. "This is _secret_. I cannot speak of it to anyone. We would be in grave danger if this got out," he warned. "It is best we do not speak of it at all."

"At all? Even when we're alone?" Alfred's shoulders slouched as he pouted, clearly disappointed. It wasn't everyday you met somebody who was the subject of your fantasies - he always wished for superheroes to exist and now there was one _holding his hand_.

Ivan released a heavy sigh. "Let's just say, other forces would not be happy. They may even make our lives more difficult if they knew. You never know if someone is listening."

"Oh, I get it. You're just being extra careful," Alfred nodded in understanding. "Okay, I can keep a secret."

Smiling thankfully while bringing Alfred's hand to his lips, Ivan kissed the skin there gently. "I know you can."

Blushing, almost melting at the touch, there was still something that kept him on guard around the other. "Just...one more thing. To put my mind at ease, okay? Then I promise I'll drop this." Seeing Ivan nod with affirmation, he exhaled a deep breath and started in a quiet, quivering voice, "T-the bodies in your basement….who were they? Be honest with me."

Violet eyes darkening as he frowned, the Russian's grip on Alfred's hand tightened protectively. "They were...bad people. They would have done anything to keep us apart."

"Bad people? So you're a vigilante?" Ivan stared at him as Alfred's brow quirked up in confusion. "And why am I involved?"

"Because you are precious to me," he answered softly, the intensity behind his words making the American's heart race as the faint pink in his cheeks bloomed into a full scarlet.

"O-oh, I see," This...this actually made a lot of sense, at least from his perspective as a superhero fan. His heroes always risked the lives of those close to them, which is why they carried secret identities...it was why he hadn't told his own family anything regarding the survival game. Suddenly it was clear why Ivan had been hiding things from him all this time, and though his many questions still had yet to be answered, at least he understood where Ivan's excuses were coming from - he'd seen enough comics and movies to know how everything went down.

And just like that, Ivan once again won Alfred's trust. It was crazy how drawn to him the American was, so eager to find any justification to have him back in his life - it was almost like they were destined to be friends. Not noticing his cat hop off the bed, Alfred was lost in a trance as he and Ivan exchanged shy smiles, silently enjoying their rare moment of peace.

That is, until Hero decided to scratch his nails against the wooden door, the loud piercing sound having been enough to startle their owner who jumped in surprise before glaring at the feline. "Hero, you fucking asshole," Alfred scolded as he withdrew his hand from Ivan's and pushed himself off the bed. "You _know_ you're not supposed to do that, mom's gonna flip if she sees you ruining shit again," opening the door, he watched the cat dart straight out of the room and disappear down the stairs, only to be met with the delectable aroma of sausage and eggs. Now he understood his cat's desperation.

Breakfast. _Of course_.

Feeling his own mouth water and stomach grumble in response, Alfred faced Ivan. "Wanna get something to eat?"

"Da," Ivan answered as he stood, walking toward Alfred before following him downstairs.

In the kitchen, Matthew was scraping his eggs out of the frying pan and onto a plate with an expression of annoyance as Hero rubbed himself against his legs, meowing loudly as he begged. "No, Hero. You already have your food, this is _mine_," his twin huffed.

"You know if you give him a little bit, he'll leave you alone, right?" Alfred announced as he entered the kitchen, going straight toward the fridge to check out its contents.

"No, that only reinforces his behavior," Matthew admonished before his gaze flickered to Ivan. Feeling exasperated, he made his way toward their usually neglected breakfast nook. "You came home late last night," he reminded his twin as he took his seat, wanting answers for his strange behavior as of late. There was no way he could keep letting Alfred's secrecy slide.

Pausing as flashbacks from the day before flooded through his mind, Alfred's grip on the handle tightened. Forcing a smile as he turned his head over his shoulder, he noticed a familiar Dutchman finishing his meal beside his twin. Well, that certainly explained why the table had been cleared and was being used for its actual purpose rather than bills and clutter. "Mr. Zwingli needed some help and we lost track of time. Sorry, I wasn't aware we had a curfew," he pulled out the egg carton and butter and set it on the island counter before sending his brother's guest a glance. "Hey, Tim."

The young adult's lips quirked into a frown, green eyes narrowing slightly. "Hey."

Not thinking much of Tim's reaction considering he was usually brief and distant, it was Ivan out of the two of them who read the unspoken tension in the room. Silvery brows narrowing, he eyed the oblivious American with concern.

"The serial killer hasn't been caught, Al," Matthew said pointedly. "The curfew never went away."

Heating up the pan and coating the bottom with butter, Alfred couldn't help but wonder why his confrontation with Third felt like it had been forever ago rather than just a few weeks. Would nearly being murdered just become a daily ritual in his life, with each encounter outdoing the last until either his own death or the end of the world? Just what exactly did he do to deserve this hell?

"What does a cop want with two teenagers anyway?" The elder twin continued, carefully gauging Alfred's reaction. "Did you do something wrong?"

"Zwingli is a good friend of my caregiver," Ivan lied swiftly, effectively saving Alfred from answering. "He has been needing help rearranging his home, so Alfred and I volunteered."

Sharp-eyed as ever, Matthew frowned. "And that's supposed to explain why Alfred looks like a mess? Where'd you even get that cut from?"

Hand instinctively brushing against his cheek, Alfred felt the scar that was taking form. The one from when Sixth struck him. "I fell," he responded without hesitation. "My cheek just happened to graze against his TV stand and the corners were sharp as fuck," the best lies were those mixed with a bit of truth. There were occasions he liked to go into his parent's master suite, usually to enjoy their luxurious jet tub on a day he really needed to relax or when Matthew was hogging up their bathroom. Their dresser had the worst edges, nicking him in the arm more than a few times. As far as he knew, the scars felt similar enough to make it a reasonable excuse.

Matthew wore an expression of doubt, but clearly the cover-up had been enough for him to temporarily drop the subject. Instead, he resigned with a heavy sigh, "Well, anyway, we got an email saying school's back in session starting Monday."

"Oh…" Alfred paused, watching as Ivan reached for a couple of eggs then cracked them over the pan. Monday? But that was only three days away..."That's nice," his voice was even, as if he needed any more stressors in his everyday life.

Sensing his brother's discomfort, Matthew grew sympathetic. "Hey...mom called and said she'd be back by tomorrow. I know you've been missing her."

Another understatement. Alfred wanted nothing more than to be held in her secure embrace and told everything would be alright just as she'd done whenever he was spooked by ghosts since he was a toddler. Definitely much more preferable than his father, who tended to downplay his feelings in an effort to avoid confronting them. Madeline had always been the more receptive one of the two, and though her tendency to diagnose him was almost as annoying as Matthew's, she seemed to be the only adult in his life who could temporarily ease his emotional breakdowns.

Despite that, with how much danger he'd been attracting lately...did he really want her home? To unknowingly be involved in a survival game solely due to her association with _him_?

"So mémé is alright?" Alfred flipped an egg while observing Ivan prepare their dishes, intrigued by how the other seemed to maneuver around his kitchen so familiarly. It'd been a while since he'd been invited into their home like this and for them to be in a domestic situation together. Once again, it was hard to believe this was the same shy teen he met all those months ago. Even Kiku, who had been visiting for almost a decade now, lacked the confidence Ivan displayed, instead he had a terrible habit of waiting for Alfred to take the initiative. Not that it was unwelcome, he was glad Ivan could call his place a home after all the neglect and loneliness he must've endured in his own. It was just something different for the teen, something _new_, and he found himself liking it very much.

"She's fine. The surgery went well and she's able to take care of herself, but mum may or may not have to do some check ups during her recovery. Don't worry, she said none of those trips will be as long as this one has been," Matthew answered as he finished his meal. "And dad said he'd be back next week for the Super Bowl."

"Cool," Alfred replied impassively, unsure of how to react to this information. Happy and relieved? Paranoid and anxious? Or maybe even a mix of them all.

As he divided the eggs onto their plates, he noticed Ivan had already prepared toast with butter during his conversation. Smiling at the other thankfully, he blushed when he saw him beam brightly in return. Averting his gaze, Alfred wondered if Ivan realized how _breathtaking_ he was when he was genuinely happy.

Picking up his plate, he decided that the family room would be a nice place to enjoy breakfast, especially since he didn't want Matthew to press further into his affairs. Ivan took his own and trailed after him, but not without shooting Matthew a warning glare. Turning to his friend, the teen sucked in a deep breath.

"He always does this to you?" Tim asked low huff, brows furrowing in anger as a protective nature overcame him.

"_Always_," Matthew grumbled as he glared daggers through the wall.

Meanwhile Alfred struggled to get to the couch without tripping over the ragamuffin running between his legs. "Hero, give me like two seconds, holy shit," plopping himself onto the couch, he watched the feline jump onto the armrest beside him, eagerly looking over his arm at the contents on his plate. "You fat fuck," picking out a few egg bits, he held it out in his hand and watched his cat devour it.

"I thought it was 'Hero'," Ivan lip curled with amusement as he took the free space on Alfred's other side.

"It's a term of endearment," Alfred answered. "Sometimes I call him asshole, little shit, dickwad. When he bites me and ruins my stuff, I say that I hate him, but he knows that's not true. He can get away with anything just because he's cute. Isn't that right, Hero?" Hand now empty, he began to pet his cat, only for it to be swatted away. "Ow. Why don't you love me? Why did Mattie get the good kitty," he sulked as Hero made his way toward the windowsill.

"They have such funny personalities, don't they?"

"Yeah, they do. Wait, you have a cat," he paused. Despite all his efforts to purge that night from his memories, it only proved futile. Maybe the negative aspects would fade away if he focused all his attention on Ivan's pet? "What's his name?"

Ivan gave a small chuckle. "Vodka."

"Vodka?" Alfred turned to him, letting out a few giggles as he stared at the other incredulously. "You named your cat Vodka?"

"Nyet, someone else picked name," Ivan answered, violet gaze softening as his smile faltered slightly.

Alfred failed to notice the slight change in tone. "Well, props to them. I love it."

Ivan's grin grew once again as he breathed a fond sigh. "I knew you would."

"Al, I'm going to Tim's place for a bit. I'll be back later," Matthew called out before appearing under the doorway, ignoring the Russian completely as he conversed with his brother. "If you need anything while I'm out, let me know."

"Okie doke," Alfred replied as he reached for the remote and turned on the TV, oblivious to the distasteful scowl on Matthew's face as he watched the Russian wrap an arm around his twin's waist in a possessive hold, a condescending sneer directed toward him. Rolling his eyes, Matthew was left to wonder why Alfred would let someone like _Ivan_ back in his life. The guy was a total creep!

"Ready to go?" Tim asked when he met him by the entryway.

"Yeah, let's just get out of here."

Spending some time away from home and with his friend proved to be a wonderful idea, it was suffocating to be stuck in a house with someone who constantly gave him dirty looks while in his own space. If this was going to be anything like all those other times Ivan came over back before the two had their conflict or whatever, Matthew _knew_ the Russian would act like some territorial animal hovering close to his brother, not even him letting him say a word before the atmosphere went cold. That sort of toxic environment was just too much for him all at once, he was glad Tim offered him a bit of weed so he could ease his nerves for a little while.

As the Dutchman packed a bag to spend the weekend with him, just in case Ivan wanted to overstay his visit (which would no doubt happen), Matthew made pleasant conversation with his parents as he finished his dinner. It was heartbreaking to see how dull their eyes had become since the death of their daughter and how Lux was now despondent and withdrawn. If only he and Tim could find out the serial killer's identity and bring some closure to the family. Unfortunately, all he knew was that his brother had some kind of answer - one that he had no intention of sharing. How he would bring up that topic, especially with Ivan hanging around, was difficult. He had absolutely _no_ idea.

The two got back to Matthew's home before their town's curfew at 8 pm, none of the light's had been turned on. Hearing the TV in the family room, he followed the noise and saw his brother in a deep sleep, head resting on Ivan's shoulder with the other's on top. Glancing at the movie on the screen, it seemed his brother had been doing one of his marathons -_ Star Wars._ How predictable, the elder twin thought fondly. Maneuvering around the ottaman coffee table to his brother's other side, he closed the pizza box on the surface and pushed it closer to the center to avoid any possible accidents. With a soft sigh, he went to nudge Alfred's shoulder.

A sudden, firm grasp snatching his wrist nearly resulted in a terrified yelp.

"Don't," Ivan threatened in a low growl, his narrowed violet eyes almost glowing as they were illuminated by the screen's light.

As he was being released, Matthew took a few steps back and slowly raised his hands in surrender, wondering how the hell Ivan grabbed him so quickly without making a sound. Still a bit shaken up, he silently watched as the Russian shuffled around carefully as he stood, his arms supporting Alfred in a bridal carry before swiftly taking him out of the room.

Tim entered after Ivan passed him by the doorway, completely disregarding his presence altogether. The disturbed grimace he sent Matthew as he flicked on the lightswitch said it all - that he too noticed there was something deeply unsettling about the other's behavior toward his brother.

"I know," Matthew sighed dejectedly, staring at the plates and discarded napkins that remained.

Time to take care of his brother's mess, as usual.

.oOo.

It was around seven in the morning when Alfred woke up, still feeling groggy as he turned to his side, only to be startled by the sight greeting him. Wide eyed and frozen with fear, his gaze was fixed on a large figure entering his bedroom through the window. Seeing platinum blond hair, he only relaxed slightly as Ivan squeezed a large duffel bag through and cautiously lowered it to the floor before soundlessly following after.

Their eyes met and after a long, silent pause. The Russian gave a small laugh. "Sorry! Did I wake you, dorogoy?"

Pushing off the bed, Alfred made his way toward the window and peeked outside. "Did you- did you just climb up that tree? With _that_?" he pointed toward the bag. "Why didn't you just use the front door?"

"I went to get my stuff so I could stay a few nights, but I didn't want to leave you alone...if your brother knew I left your side, he'd corner you with questions."

"I mean...okay. But how…" he stilled, suddenly remembering all the weird situations that had been happening in his bedroom since he met the other. No. Fucking. _Way_. Blue eyes wide, he stared at the other dumbly. "How long have you been doing this?" he asked slowly, dreading the answer he already knew.

Like a child being scolded by their mother, Ivan wrung his hands together and revealed a soft, but guilty answer. "A while…"

"A-A while?" Alfred would've shouted had his voice not cracked. Pounding his chest and letting out a few grunts, he was able to get his normal voice back. "What do you mean by a _while_?"

"No, no. Do not freak out. Please," Ivan pleaded, raising his hands apologetically, hoping to appease the other. "I thought this is normal! Is what friends do, yes?"

"Who taught you that?"

"Ah…" shifting uncomfortably and glancing away, violet eyes became cloudy and filled with somber. "I cannot say."

Crossing his arms, Alfred raised a brow. "Is this more secret, backstory stuff I'm not allowed to know about?"

Hesitantly, Ivan nodded. "Da...I am sorry."

"Okay, but just 'cause I'm letting it slide now doesn't mean you're off the hook. You do realize that I expect you to explain everything to me eventually, right? _Before_ one of us dies."

"You will not die," Ivan affirmed, as though it weren't even a possibility. It was hard for Alfred to retain his angry front when the other constantly made him feel like he was about to swoon. "And I will tell you, but not now. It must wait a little longer."

"_When_? I want a date, and you have to swear you'll tell me the whole truth," letting out a heavy sigh, he gazed into Ivan's eyes softly. "You're very...different from anyone I've ever met before. I just want to understand why you do the things you do, Iv. It's annoying we keep having these misunderstandings."

"I…" Ivan chewed on his bottom lip unsurely before pulling his cellphone out from his pocket. "C-can I show you something? But you must promise you will not be mad."

Furrowing his brows, Alfred gave Ivan a slow nod and watched him scroll through his diary's entries until the screen was presented to him.

**30 April [19:10]**

**Fedya becomes one with me. **

**[Happy End]**

"Becomes one?" The American's face flushed a deep scarlet as he jumped back, stumbling and nearly falling onto his mattress. "A-As in like sex?"

Ivan hummed in content, a lovesick expression taking over his features as he cradled the phone close to his chest. "By this time, you will return my feelings. We will be in love and we will be happy. You will finally trust me and understand."

Staring blankly at the other, Alfred knew deep down that there was a truth to Ivan's words. After hitting puberty and abandoning Deus, his life was turned upside-down once he was accepted as a popular kid. Being pressured into many things he wasn't comfortable with, he developed a deep dislike toward hook-up culture after having his heart ripped out on one too many occasions. Despite having a bit of sexual experience, he refused to go all the way - he was very adamant about that. Maybe this was him being old-fashioned, but he wanted his first time to be with someone he trusted and loved. He hated all those times he had been a one-time fling and then discarded like nothing.

But the other day almost completely ruined his ideal. After what happened in Sixth's manor, the younger teen wanted nothing more than to block out anything related to sex. The memory just made him feel vile and ashamed, it would definitely be a while until he recovered. "You know, that could always change right? We've still got a ways to go before the end of April," he muttered defensively while crossing his arms.

"Nyet, this is a future I won't let anybody change," Ivan spoke up passionately. There were tears gathering in his eyes, the sight of which surprised Alfred. "Not even you. It _can't_ change. This _must_ happen," he exhaled shakily as tremors ran throughout his body.

"U-um, why?" Alfred asked awkwardly, having to look away from the other due to his own discomfort. This was such a weird conversation, not to mention first thing in the morning, and Ivan's reaction was only complicating things.

"I always thought I was incapable of being loved," Ivan confessed softly, his gaze downcast and clouded with memories. "But then I met you...you were nice to me, you gave me so much and then-" his breath hitched before he clenched his eyes shut while shaking his head. "My whole life, I was hated and feared. They called me a monster, and for long time, I believed it was true," his intense violet irises then fixed on Alfred. "But when you reached out to me, you _saved_ me. You are my sun, my everything. Without you, I am nothing." Alfred's arms fell while he stared back in shock. "I love you, Fedya...and for you to return my feelings, there is no greater future. That is why I cannot lose this, please understand. It is only way I can die in peace."

The weight of the Russian's words made him speechless, his mouth rendered completely dry. Mind drawing a blank, Alfred hadn't the slightest clue on how to respond to something like that, but his heart was heavy with sympathy. No one deserved to live without love, to be treated like a monster. Nobody should ever have to be alone. "Iv, I-"

"Hellooooo," a familiar voice called from downstairs and Alfred's heart skipped a beat. "Can you boys hear me up there? I'm home!"

Glancing back at Ivan, the other waved his hand in dismissal and smiled cheerfully. "Do not worry over it. Now, let us greet your mother, yes?" Before Alfred could respond, Ivan was already out the door.

Madeline had greeted Matthew and Tim by the time they were headed down the stairs, hugging her eldest son tightly before backing away. "Did you guys have a sleepover or...Ivan! You're back!" she grinned at the tall teen. "I'm glad you and Allie made amends, he was so miserable without you here all the time-"

"_Mom_!" Alfred hissed, his face completely flushed as he finished his descent.

"Oh my baby," she rushed to embrace him, squeezing him tightly. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you? I'm so sorry I wasn't here sooner, I promise I'll do everything I can to make it up to you-"

"Can you start by letting me breathe?" he teased despite the painful sting in his eyes. As much as he wanted to return her hug, he knew he'd lose control over his emotions if it went on for any longer. He couldn't afford to do that, not in front of her. There was no way he could risk his mother thinking something was wrong, instead he had to brush off his last few weeks like they were nothing.

"Sorry," she took a step back to give him some space, but kept her grip tight on his arms as though she would lose him. Forcing a smile, Alfred was ridden with guilt after noticing the wet streaks running down her cheeks. "I'm just...I'm so glad to see you."

"I'm glad to see you too, but I'm okay. I promise," he assured her, paying no heed the affronted look Matthew sent him.

Madeline wiped away a few stray tears with the back of her thumb. "You were always so brave-" she paused, brows furrowing when she noticed the cut on his cheek. Her fingers caressed the area surrounding the wound as she scrutinized it up close. "What happened here?"

"Oh, I just tripped and hit a desk," he answered easily.

"I thought it was a TV stand," Matthew's eyes squinted in suspicion as he crossed his arms.

"It was a _surface_," he retaliated, challenging his brother.

Their mother let out a tired sigh. "Allie, you need to be more careful, you could've gotten seriously injured. What if it was your eye?" Glancing into his blue ones, she raised a brow. "And speaking of eyes, what happened to your glasses? You always wear them."

"They, um, they...got lost during the raid," he finished lamely.

"What?" Madeline blinked in surprise. "Oh, but you loved them. You wanted to get your own pair so badly after Mattie got his..." she reminisced sadly in front of their guests, much to his chagrin. "I'm sorry...but your vision isn't too bad, right? Or do I need to call the optometrist?"

"No, no. It's okay," Alfred shook his head. "Don't I have an appointment in a few months? I can just wait until then," though that wouldn't be until _after_ the survival game concluded, he thought despairingly.

"If you're sure..." his mother trailed off. "But if at any point it bothers you, tell me and I'll make an appointment. Deal?"

"Deal."

Further examining his face, she shook her head. "Are you getting enough sleep?" her thumb traced the dark circles under his eyes. "Have you been taking care of yourself at _all_?"

"Mom, I'm fine," Alfred turned his head and shrugged out of her hold. "Don't worry about it."

"You don't look 'fine'," she huffed. "Do I need to call Doctor-"

_"I said I'm fine, mom,"_ he snapped, immediately feeling shame the moment the words fell from his lips as she, Matthew, and Tim all raised their brows in alarm. _Shit_. "I'm fine," he tried again, this time more calmly. "It's just people have been asking me that a lot lately and it gets frustrating. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to raise my voice."

"I see," Madeline clicked her tongue. With the atmosphere still tense, she clapped her hands once to dissipate it. "How about I make us all french toast for breakfast? That way I can tell you all about my mother's 'exciting' night before her fall. It's _quite_ the story."

Chuckling as he easily bounced back to his cheerful self, Alfred followed her toward the kitchen. "Yes, ma'am! Sounds like a plan."

Matthew pursed his lips and traded a wary look with Tim. The sooner he got answers out of his brother, the better. For _everyone_. Clearly his twin wasn't in his right state of mind, and now his mother was pressing his patience with her overbearing concern. This was becoming almost exactly like the time she wanted Alfred to go to a doctor because of those imaginary friends of his. As much as Matthew appreciated her effort and knew she only meant well, it was _not_ the approach his twin responded well to. In fact, it held the complete opposite effect and only made his brother completely shut down. As a result of Matthew agreeing with her during that time, a good piece of Alfred's trust in him had been severed. He had to do everything he could to earn that trust back, then and only then would he be able to convince Alfred to get the help he needed.

Approaching them with a tight smile, the aura surrounding Ivan was anything but friendly. "I do hope you two aren't planning what I think you are. It is not wise to meddle in other's affairs," he warned sweetly.

Matthew glowered at the Russian, not backing down. "I don't know what you got him sucked into, but I _will_ find out."

Ivan replied with a sardonic grin. "This is beyond you. If you value your brother's health, you will keep your nose out of his business. Is that understood?"

Without waiting for a response, he followed after Alfred, leaving the two to talk amongst themselves.

"Prick," Tim scoffed, rolling his eyes before turning to Matthew. "Now what do we do?"

"Exactly what I need to."

.oOo.

Matthew put the car in park after pulling into the LIRR's drop-off zone. Taking a moment to recline in his seat, he tilted his head and watched his mother finish applying her mascara. It was 6:48 am on a Monday morning, the first day of school after a long break - it would be at least a couple of weeks before he got back into rhythm, but he was anxious about how different things would be moving forward. All this news about his school, the deaths of his peers and principal, and the unanswered mystery of their local serial killer - the anticipation of what was to come was too much bear. All he wanted was for this nightmare to be done and over with.

"Maybe I shouldn't have spent the extra day home...I should've left last night. Sorry for making you boys get up so early," Madeline frowned as she packed her make-up.

"It's fine," the elder twin yawned, massaging the side of his head as he tried to clear his thoughts. "It's good for us to get back into the habit."

In the back seat, Alfred had his arms crossed on the door panel, his head resting on top as he took in the sunrise and pretended to remain blind to Ivan's unwavering gaze. _'No pretty colors this time, only fog,'_ he thought with disappointment. It was like the world knew it would be a miserable day for him, there was no use sugar-coating the inevitable.

Drumming his fingers against the frame, the stress he felt just couldn't be alleviated. First of all, Mr. Edelstein was going to be very disappointed he'd been slacking off on his trumpet practice. Second, he would have to face all the people who were victims to the raid, as well as come to terms with those who were lost. Third, he was going to have to see _Feliciano Vargas_, look him in the eyes, and pretend he hadn't watched his psychotic father be impaled against a chair. Fourth...how the hell was he going to survive through Spanish class when he now knew the serial killer had been none other than _Antonio_? His teacher, one of Francis' close friends, was the one who killed _Emma_. As of now, going to school felt like a death sentence, its image forever tainted. Just the thought of it alone made him want to hurl.

Unfortunately, his mother wasn't having any of it. _'You can't just drop out of school. Besides, the fresh air and seeing your friends will be good for you. Matthew told me you were cooped up at home the whole time...but if it really bothers you, I can see about transferring you to a different school…'_ God, if only she knew what he went through these past few weeks, he'd be able to get away with _anything_ . Instead, he kept his mouth shut and observed the individuals waiting for the train, just wishing he could've been blessed with a normal life.

Hearing the train in the distance, Madeline quickly said goodbye to her boys and Ivan before taking her leave. Once she safely boarded, Matthew switched the gear to drive and began heading to school, the car ride completely silent all the while. Alfred had been in no mood to initiate conversation, and it was unlikely his twin and Ivan would ever get along. As they neared their high school, the teen's apprehension increased exponentially, his breathing becoming more audible and intense. He was one impulse away from opening the car door and making a run for it.

But then Ivan's hand found his own, caressing the back with his thumb while offering a reassuring smile, effectively calming his shaking nerves. Wait, he _wasn't_ alone, he reminded himself. Ivan was a superhero, and they both had powerful diaries that told the future - they could get through anything together. That's right, he _could_ do this. Alfred F. Jones wasn't a coward, he faced death multiple times before and could do it again. He was a _survivor_, he'd been one since the day he was born, it was practically second-nature. Giving the other's hand a tight squeeze, he felt a bit of confidence restored to him.

Matthew parked the car and exited the vehicle before the others followed suit. Sending his brother a look of concern, he moved toward him and offered a comforting pat on his shoulder. "Hey, if you find that you can't handle today, we'll try to get you an excuse note. I'll ask Tim if he can come get you, okay?"

"I can do this," Alfred declared with a nod. Despite his anxieties, he was determined to prove his resilience and show there was nothing wrong.

Matthew's lip curled into a gentle smile as he pulled back his arm. "There's the Al I know."

Walking toward the doors closest to the band room, Alfred's eyes glanced at the group of his peers gathered in front of the main entrance as they made their way inside. There were a lot less people now, many had transferred after the attack, but the teen was relieved that none happened to be his friends - though he did recall Kiku texting him that his parents were seriously considering it. Among the sea of students, there were many faces he recognized, but a pair of striking emerald irises stood out from the rest.

Though that could be because the stranger was staring intently at _him_.

Alfred froze, time suddenly standing still. That pale skin and lean body with sharp angles, his crown of messy blond hair...the American couldn't think of a time where he ever met this person, but the way green eyes squinted with tenderness beneath thick brows and that cocky smirk suggested otherwise.

There was just something about him that felt so...familiar.

"Solnyshko? What's wrong?" Alfred turned to Ivan, blinking rapidly as he was pulled back into reality.

"Huh?" His eyes flickered back toward the stranger, but he was gone - nowhere to be seen. "I just thought...I saw someone," he frowned, massaging his temple as he wondered if he had imagined the whole thing.

"You saw someone?" Ivan followed Alfred's gaze, but saw no one.

"Yeah...it's nothing," Alfred shook his head. "Let's just get inside. It's cold as hell out here," to emphasize his point, he hugged himself tightly.

Watching the other pass him to enter the building, Ivan quickly surveyed the area before following suit, making sure nobody suspicious was pursuing them.

As they walked together down the hall with the Russian remaining very close to his side, Alfred pursed his lips and came to a halt "Wait, your locker is the other way."

"Nyet, I will stay with you," Ivan answered resolutely. "I do not want to leave you alone."

"I won't be alone, it'll be like five minutes. I got this, so don't worry. You don't have to babysit me the whole time," Alfred huffed, almost rolling his eyes. Just because he was the love interest in Ivan's story, that did _not_ mean he had to accept the role of damsel in distress. No, he was a capable human being who could take care of himself. Lingering awkwardly, it was clear Ivan was hesitant to go off on his own until Alfred gave him an encouraging grin. "You can meet me at my locker once you're done. It'll be like old times, right?"

That seemed to motivate Ivan, a smile lit up his features. "Da, like old times! I will be quick!" And then he rushed off, almost as though Alfred would give him a cookie when he returned.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he continued his way to his locker, taking a moment to remember the damn lock combination before swinging the door open - back into routine. Almost as if nothing had ever happened, like the raid never even occurred. Seeing a sunflower and a bunch of love notes from Ivan made him think about all the things the Russian said the other day, especially his confession about their 'Happy End.' Would he really fall in love with Ivan by then? Considering that crush he had on him before their fall out last autumn and his repeated relapses, it was very well possible...but there was something strange about him. There'd always been, though that could be why he was so drawn to him in the first place...

With an unexpected weight around his neck, Alfred immediately elbowed the perpetrator and slipped out of their hold, spinning around with his stance on the defensive. Seeing the shocked junior gawk at him with a lopsided grin, he was able to take a deep breath and relax.

"Damn, Al. Been taking fighting lessons or something?" Kyle joked, rubbing his rib where the other struck him.

Alfred shook his head. "N-no, sorry. It's just been a long couple of weeks. I didn't mean to-"

Raising a hand, Kyle laughed. "You're good. I forgot you were a hostage and all," as the words escaped his mouth, the Australian cringed, filled with immediate regret. "_Shit_, I mean...sorry." Alfred shrugged nonchalantly to show the other he wasn't phased, hoping it would alleviate the awkwardness. Fortunately, Kyle picked up on it. "So, you've really quit the swim team?"

Frowning, the elder of the two nodded. "Yeah, sorry...there's just a lot going on. I can't handle the extra stress."

"Damn, I dunno how we'll win without you, you're like a shark! Well, are you still gonna be a lifeguard this summer at the lake? 'Cause I was thinking about applying. It would be fun!"

"I might…" _Not_. After April 30th, he was either going to be dead or a god, with the former being most likely.

"Awesome! Well, in the meantime, we can still hang, right? And loosen up. I could get the Nerf guns out and we duke it out like we always do at my parties!"

That cracked Alfred up. "I'd love that."

"Oh! My weird-ass cousin's staying with us! You could totally help me piss him off!"

"What, so Wendy's moved on from being your partner in crime?" Alfred teased, the grin on his face being wide and genuine.

"She's been trying to act more 'mature' lately," Kyle rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Sisters, am I right?"

"I wouldn't know," the American smirked with a shrug. "Don't have any."

"Good morning, Al-kun," Turning the other way, Alfred nearly teared up at the sight of his best friend. Even if they were in constant communication via text and games, it'd been so long since they'd been able to speak face-to-face. "I'm glad to see you again."

"Yeah, Keeks. You too," Alfred finally felt at ease despite all the chaos in his life. Even if this 'slice-of-life' experience was only temporary, it was a great breath of fresh air. There was a sense of familiarity in hiding his problems behind a simple smile, it made him believe he could be an ordinary teen.

Violet eyes turned the corner with eagerness to return to the subject of their affection, only for their owner to stop dead in his tracks. Of course, there was the matter of his beloved's _friends_, Ivan seethed, feeling jealousy consume him. It was _him_ who Alfred should be paying attention to, _he_ should be the one to make him smile so radiantly. Grinding his teeth and doing everything is his power not to crush the book in his hands, he forced a smile the way he was taught so long ago before approaching his sunflower.

Clearing his throat as a way to announce his presence, Ivan giggled innocently when Alfred faced him attentively and missed the way Kiku's shoulders slumped in defeat. The Japanese teen didn't like this new change, it hurt when your closest friend chose someone else over yourself. Remembering how Ivan had stolen his desk the last time they shared class together and that Alfred had done nothing to stop it, he couldn't help but wonder if he was being replaced.

"See, was that so hard?" Alfred teased, leaning in slightly.

"Yes. Very," Ivan said bluntly, eyes closing as his smile tightened.

Kyle made a face that was a mix of trying to stifle his displeasure being around the school's pariah and a smile in support of his friend's relationship. Feeling uncomfortable, he felt that it was time to take his leave. "Well, I need to get to class. Keep in contact, 'kay?" he sent Alfred a finger gun gesture as he half-spun and began walking away.

"Yeah, of course. We'll find something to do," he waved the junior off.

Taking note of Kiku's less-open demeanor ever since Ivan returned, he pursed his lips and attempted to think of a resolution. Like with Matthew, it was clear the Russian had no intention of getting along with his friend, though at least with his twin he understood why there was tension between them. As far as he knew, Kiku and Ivan barely interacted with each other, so the hostility they held toward each other was unnecessary.

Entering their homeroom, Alfred rushed to Kiku's old desk, much to the others' confusion. It was the only way a compromise could be met without hurting anybody's feeling, this way they both could sit beside him - someone would take his spot by the window and another could take the center aisle. After realizing what the American had done, the two teens begrudgingly set aside their differences for his sake and took their place, content that at least they didn't have to interact. Being proud of his insightfulness, for a moment Alfred actually believed today would go against his judgement and turn out for the better.

Sadly, all good things must come to an end.

It was lunch when the train began to steer off-course, Alfred's reluctance to sit at their table only morphed to regret when Feliciano took his seat beside Ludwig.

Taking note of the Italian's disheartened disposition, evident by the way he slouched in his seat as he picked at his food and his troubled expression, it was Matthew who began the conversation. "Is something wrong, Feli?"

"Well, it's just…" Feliciano sighed, staring at the folded hands in his lap. "My mama has been calling me constantly, she's urging me to drop everything so I can live in Italy with her. And Lovino, I haven't seen him in weeks. He's so busy now that he's been relocated, and papa's not answering me at all..."

"What a shame," Ivan smirked, resulting in Alfred to inconspicuously whack him in the stomach gently with a scolding expression of _'what the fuck.'_ The wide-eyed, confused look the Russian responded with would've been funny if the situation itself wasn't inappropriate.

"Grazie," Feliciano failed to detect the sarcasm in the remark, though Matthew and Kiku both heard it clearly - like the Russian wasn't even trying to hide it. "I don't understand what's happening. I wish they would be more open with me."

The boys at the table then turned to Ludwig, with the exception of Ivan who went back to eating his lunch. Usually the German was the one who would offer a comforting word or two to the Italian, maybe even a small gesture, but right now he seemed distant, brooding, his mind completely elsewhere. Matthew and Kiku exchanged an unsure glance as Alfred studied the Italian.

God, he looked so much like his father, it sickened him. There were dark feelings swirling in his gut, a desire to make him suffer for Sixth's actions, but he had to remember this was his _friend_, not the man who tried to have him violated by his sick goonies. Lips quivering into a smile, he dared to open his mouth. "Hey, at least you still have us, right?"

A soft smile bloomed on Feli's face before he gave a slight nod, a twinkle in amber eyes. "Yes, I still have all of you."

The next encounter of the day, however, he had much less control over the situation.

It'd been a long time since he'd spoken with Chris, what with Kevin transferring schools after his hospitalization and the school's refusal to suspend Ivan resulting in the other to maintain his distance, but he should have known that a grudge against him still lingered. It was gym when he was approached by his peer, originally believing that Chris was going to ask him about baseball try-outs, to which he would've replied with how he wasn't going to bother with them this year.

Needless to say, he was surprised when the conversation took a completely different turn.

"Wow, so you tried to be a fucking hero during the raid and instead you were taken in as a hostage. What a textbook example of getting put in your place, am I right? " Chris jeered at him with a few fellow baseball players snickering in support.

That struck a nerve.

Slamming the locker shut, Alfred turned to his former teammate as he bristled. "You think I _wanted_ that? You think I want _any_ of this?" his voice was strained, pitch rising near the end.

"Well, none of that would've happened if you weren't always trying to be such an attention whore, Al," Chris rolled his eyes. "You got what you deserved."

Blond brows furrowed dangerously. "So, you're saying I deserved to die?"

"No, I'm saying you needed a reality check."

"But if he did die, you wouldn't see me complaining," Carlos joined in with a sneer.

"Shut the fuck up, asshole," Alfred snapped at his twin's friend. There were so many times he couldn't stand the other, as though it were _his_ fault his ADHD had been rampant back in elementary school. All those misunderstandings, his recklessness which got them into trouble, and his loud, overbearing outbursts hadn't been out of malice like the Cuban was stubborn to believe. He literally couldn't control his behavior, that's why it was called a _disorder, _yet the other had the audacity to believe he was faking it the whole time.

How could he have been faking it when it severely hurt his ability to befriend others? When it made everyone avoid and shun him like an outcast? It was only when he got older and fortunate enough to have the symptoms lessen that he was able to make friends, to discover a way to coexist with it as it fueled his charismatic, extroverted personality. But Carlos seemed to think that he _wanted_ to spend a good portion of his childhood taking medication, to have to go to those behavioral therapy sessions because something was _wrong_ with him, to be the only preteen with imaginary friends since there were only a handful of people who could _stand_ him...

Life had never been fair to him, but to say that he deserved to _suffer_ because of the hand he was dealt? Maybe if they all spent a moment in his shoes, they'd change their minds.

For a fleeting moment, Alfred _really_ wanted Chris and Carlos to be afraid, to know what it was like to be at death's mercy. Hands clenching and his jaw set, he advanced toward the two in a way he'd seen just a few weeks ago - like a hunter stalking his prey.

There was something satisfying about the way two pairs of brown eyes widened when they understood that Alfred had the intent of escalating this conflict into something physical.

A firm hand clamped over his shoulder, jolting Alfred out of whatever reverie he'd fallen into. Looking back, he saw that it was none other than Ivan, smiling down at him gently. "Do not trouble yourself with these worms, they will get what is coming to them soon enough," he promised, and the American teen paled as realization dawned on him.

_Just what the hell was happening to him?_

Trembling, Alfred needed to get away from here, especially when he saw his old team staring at him with disturbed scowls etched into their faces. No , this wasn't him.

But then why did it feel so _right?_

Lost in a trance and uncomfortable with this discovery, he shook himself out of Ivan's grip and rushed out of the locker room, deciding that maybe he would take up on Matthew's offer and try to get out of school early. Apparently they were going to have an assembly concerning the raid after this period, and with the state he was in now, there was no way he'd be able handle it. He felt like he was suffocating, he had to leave now .

Unbeknownst to him, Ivan had observed his behavior with intrigue, almost as though seeing him in a new light. This was...unprecedented, but most certainly not unwelcomed. In fact, it was rather _exhilarating_. Lips twitching into a grin and heart palpitating faster by the second, a warm blush spread through his cheeks as he ran after Alfred, eager to see what else their future would bring.

* * *

_A/N: Ohhh, Alfred wants to believe Ivan is a superhero so bad lol. But yes, Alfred clearly has issues. He's not a completely innocent character, especially since it was so easy for him to accept the fact Ivan killed people as long as they were 'bad guys.' Then again, after facing a serial killer and an entire mob, plus his obsession with superheroes, can you really fault him for being okay with that? JUST as long as they're bad...but who gets to be the judge? Hehe(:_

_Again, reminder, the next chapter will be up in the next week or so which will set up the next arc. After it is published, I won't get anything out until mid-to-late May at the earliest because I have a LOT of catching up to do on projects/essays. I'm being crushed by all these responsibilities, please send help. _


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